


Running into the Past

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-23
Updated: 2011-03-23
Packaged: 2019-05-30 09:20:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: This is an AU fic in which Donna doesn't return to the campaign after leaving. Josh runs into her four years later.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

He knew as he scraped remnants of what was once his bar of Dial off the ledge of the bathtub, trying to get enough to be able to work it into a lather to wash himself with that it was going to be a bad day. If that hadn’t been enough, the spilled coffee and broken coffee mug would’ve clued him in. Or the fact that he had to wear black socks with his tan suit because all of his brown dress socks were dirty. Or when he walked outside to see that it was raining and remembered he’d left his umbrella at the office the night before. Or when he’d gotten in his car to see his fuel light on. Yeah, it was definitely going to be a bad day.

He pulled into the Shell station and pulled his credit card out of his wallet, taking two tries to get the ‘pay at the pump’ to read it, then began pumping unleaded fuel into his Audi. He had a headache; he’d need to get some Bayer from April when he got to the office. 

The pump clicked off and he pulled it out of his tank, spilling a small amount of gas on his shoes, gritting his teeth and swearing under his breath. He put the pump back into its slot and the machine blinked ‘CASHIER HAS RECEIPT,’ making him want to scream as he walked through the rain into the smoke-filled building to get the receipt that should’ve printed at the pump.

His cell phone rang and he looked at the caller id. He hit talk and without a hello, growled out, “I’m on my way.”

“We’re meeting with Bruno in twenty minutes. We wanted to get together without him first.”

“It’s not us versus them, Toby.” The bell on the door rang and he looked over as a woman walked in. He couldn’t see her face under the umbrella she was holding, just her shoulder length blonde hair. A trench coat hung from her tall slender frame and she stomped her feet on the small rug a few times.

“It is us versus them. On this, it is.”

Josh sighed in agreement. It did feel like it was the staff versus the campaign staff. The problem was that the campaign staff seemed to be winning a lot lately. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up the phone and let the man who’d been in front of him buying lottery tickets and Camel Lights get around him to leave. The cashier looked up at him expectantly. “Pump...:” he looked out at his car again. “Seven. My receipt didn’t print out.”

The guy, who refused to be rushed, leaned on one hand as he began punching things into the cash register with his other. After several seconds, Josh’s receipt printed out and the guy handed it to him as he looked to the next customer equally uninterested. “Thanks,” Josh said sarcastically before turning around to leave and stopping dead in his tracks.

A million thoughts raced through his brain in the span of less than a second. Her hair was shorter. Didn’t she live in Wisconsin? She was wearing the same perfume. She wasn’t dripping wet like he was. Her eyes were even bluer than he remembered. She’d lost that wide-eyed innocence look. He was going to be late. April wasn’t half the assistant she’d been for the six weeks she’d worked for him. He had to remember to pick up soap on the way home. He should say hello. God she looked good. She left him.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, tilting her head and smiling at him. He found it hard to breathe. “Hi,” she said quietly.

...................

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Who are you?”

“I'm Donna Moss, who are you?” 

“I'm Josh Lyman.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

..................

His eyes widened. “Hi.”

“Donna. Donna Moss.” He couldn’t make his mouth move, and after a few seconds, she continued. “I… volunteered for the Bartlet for America campaign for a while. I was…” she trailed off and he realized she didn’t know he remembered her, and just like that, he was glad.

He stuck out his hand and gave her a plastic smile, acting as impersonal as possible. “Well, Donna. We appreciate the hard work you did for the President’s campaign.”

She shook his hand with wide eyes and he was happy, almost giddy, that he’d hit a nerve. That she didn’t know he remembered her. That she didn’t know he could tell her right now the coffee in her other hand had one cream and a half a packet of sweet and low. “It was…” she stammered and paused, trying to regain her composure. He remembered that about her too. “It was an honor,” she said standing straighter and smiling stiffly back at him.

He nodded then and walked past her and out the door, the bell ringing as he passed underneath it. He shielded himself as much as possible as he ran for his car, telling himself over and over not to look back. Once he was inside, he sat for a minute looking at his shaking hands on the steering wheel before he pulled his keys out of his pocket and started the car. He took a deep breath and pulled away from the pump and towards the road. She was back in the rain then, the umbrella back up, and he watched through the rearview mirror as she crossed the pumps to a Honda Civic. He couldn’t see her face, but hoped he’d destroyed her, just a little, and even as that thought occurred to him, he felt sick to his stomach for having it and threw his car into park, opening his door. Just as he heard the door ajar ding, he pulled himself back to reality and shut the door again, then left the parking lot and headed into work.

********** 

“They’re waiting for you in Toby’s office,” April said as he passed her desk and headed into his office.

“I know. I need some Bayer,” he said, not looking at her.

She followed into his office several seconds behind. “Leo needs a minute after your meeting with Bruno but before senior staff, and Hamilton’s assistant called to confirm your two o’clock.”

He peeled his sopping wet coat off and hung it on the rack in the corner before sitting down at his desk. “Where are the things I need for my meeting with Bruno?”

“Things?”

He sighed. “The files on tobacco and soft money ads. Did Jason give them to you?”

She shook her head. “I’ll get them from him,” she said, handing him a bottle of Aleve.

He looked at them and back at her. “Bayer.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Well get some,” he said louder than he meant to.

“It’s not my job to keep Bayer around for you. I have Aleve. Take it or leave it.”

“I don’t like…Jason!” he shouted.

“It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing. Jason!”

“What?” Jason asked, poking his head in the door.

“Where are the folders I need for my meeting with Bruno?”

“Here,” he said, handing them to him.

“Thank you. Do you have Bayer?”

“I have Tylenol,” he said.

Josh ran his hands through his hair. “Which I don’t like.”

“It’s just Tylenol, Josh.”

“Bayer is better for my…you know what? I’m the boss here. You’re the assistants. One of you find me some Bayer,” he said, walking out of his office and heading towards the communications bullpen.

********** 

“It’s illegal.”

“It’s not illegal.”

“The intent of the law…”

“They should’ve written it better.”

“Bruno.”

“Sam, it’s not illegal.”

“We’re not supposed to be using soft money.”

“They are.”

“We’re better than them.”

“Yes. Let’s use soft money to point that out to the voters.”

“Bruno.” 

They continued arguing, but Josh barely heard a word of it. His mind continually played over the morning; more to the point, the twenty or so seconds he’d spent with Donna Moss that morning.

What the hell was she doing here? She left him and went back to Wisconsin. And for the last four years, he’d stayed out of her state, why hadn’t she stayed the hell out of his? 

And to smile at him; that innocent ‘how’ve you been’ smile. That ‘we’re old friends; it’s great to see you again smile.’ How dare she act as though she hadn’t left him high and dry in the middle of a campaign? As if there wasn’t work to do and things to arrange and arguments to have. 

.................

Josh – 

I’m so sorry to do this like this. I’m a coward, I know.

He came here, Josh. He drove here to get me, to ask for another chance. I ignored his calls so he came here and I know you think he’s scum, but we were together for years, Josh. Three years. I owe it to both of us to give this another chance. 

The carry-on bag by the door has everything you need for the Iowa trip tomorrow, as well as two clean shirts and that neck pillow you kept trying to steal from me. Your schedule for the trip is under this letter; I’ve confirmed every meeting. Do good.

Thank you for watching over me. For the dinners we worked through so the campaign would pay and for making sure I made every trip so I’d have a place to sleep. Thank you for teaching me and fighting with me and letting me fight back. And thank you for the chance, Josh. I’m more grateful for it than you’ll ever know, but I have to do this.

You have my cell number, please call me if you guys come near Madison and we’ll have lunch. I’ll buy. And eat the occasional salad.

I know you guys are gonna do great, Josh. I just know it.

Donna

..............

How dare her leave in the middle of the night with nothing but a note and two clean shirts and then run into him five blocks from his townhouse four years later and smile at him that same way she did to get herself a job. He wouldn’t fall for it again. Didn’t. He didn’t fall for it again.

He’d had a ton of assistants. Five since she’d left alone. Not to mention the ones who came before her. How was he expected to remember every volunteer who’d come in and out of that office? She was only there for six weeks. Six weeks and three days. He couldn’t be expected to remember her, and he was glad she knew that now. It was spiteful and mean and revengeful and he was glad. Glad it stung; glad her eyes lost a little of that sparkle. She deserved it. She left him and he’d gone on without her. He didn’t have time to look back now. He had a President to get reelected and a country to run. One assistant that lasted only six weeks and three days was the last thing he had time to think about. 

He couldn’t get his mind off her.


	2. Running into the Past

  
Author's notes: This switches between past and present tense. Those are separated by ..................  


* * *

He’d almost convinced himself he was safe. It’d been eight days since he’d run into her five blocks from his townhouse. Of course, it’d also been eight days since he’d slept a full night, since he’d worn wrinkled clothing or left the house without trying to tame his untamable hair, since he’d Google’d her name and found out she graduated from the University of Wisconsin two years ago. Her last name was still Moss then. It pissed him off that he cared.

She was probably on vacation last week when he’d seen her. On vacation from whatever she was doing with whatever her degree was. Or whatever she was doing with one of the seven minors he’d imagined her having. Thinking that made him smile, which pissed him off even more. She was just on vacation, he told himself over and over. So she’d come to Washington DC on vacation with her husband and kids, a thought which made him queasy, for a week to see the sights. And that week was over, so his life could go back to normal. 

“You’re spacing out again,” Jason said, standing in front of his desk.

He looked up, startled. “I’m not spacing out, I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

Josh gave him an evil eye. “I don’t know. I have meetings with two congressmen and a senator today. Probably nothing important,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m just saying, you’ve been weird all week.”

He stood up and started putting his jacket on. “Shut up and get me the folder for the thing.” 

“What thing?”

.................

“Donna!”

“Is this shouting thing going to become habit?”

“I shouted?”

“You did indeed. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, I can’t find the file for the...”

“I’ve got it right here.”

“How’d you know what I was talking about?”

“I don’t know; I just did.”

....................

“What thing? The thing I’m meeting the congressmen and senator about! The thing you’ve been researching for the last three days. The H.U.D. bill, that thing.” 

“Oh, hold on. It’s on my desk.”

“Is it done?”

“Yes, but you’re still acting weird.”

He wasn’t acting weird. He had reasons for each of the things he’d done out of the ordinary over the last eight days. He looked out his living room window countless times each evening because he couldn’t be surprised again. She’d stolen his breath far too many times. He’d taken alternate routes home, driving down side streets looking for hunter green Honda Civics because if she lived nearby he needed to have advanced warning so he could stay away from her. He wore his best suits and tried harder than usual to tame his hair because if he did run into her, he had to look like he had it all together. He wasn’t sleeping because between the tobacco lawsuit and reelection, work was stressful. He hadn’t called Amy to repair their relationship because she was a bitch. He took the folder from Jason and sighed. At least that last one was true.

“Sam’s waiting for you in his office. He wants to talk to you about 726 on the way to the Hill,” April said as he passed her desk. “And Toby wants to talk about tomorrow’s trip to Indiana.”

“Fine. Call Hamilton. Tell him I’m going to be on the hill all afternoon. See if he has a few minutes to talk to me about tobacco.”

She looked at him like he’d grown another head. “I did that this morning. He said he’d be in his office anytime after three. I already told you that.”

He stared back at her for a few seconds. “Right.”

“Weird,” Jason mumbled, earning himself a death glare from Josh.

********** 

“See these people?” Sam asked, motioning around the mall at the tourists, the veterans, the homeless, the government employees at lunch. “These are the people we do this for. These are the people I need to remember when I’m bitching about campaign trips to Nebraska and fighting with congress. We do that for these people. For their kids, their grandkids.”

“Yeah,” Josh mumbled, off in his own world.

.................

“What’s the mall like?”

“There’s a big statue of Lincoln and a long pool that goes knee deep.” 

“Josh…”

“What do you want me to say? You’ve seen it on TV; you know what it looks like.”

“That’s not the same. Is it awe inspiring?”

“It’s best at night. It’s all lit up. It’s… neat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When we win, I’ll take you.”

...............

“You with me?”

Josh jerked his head up. “What?”

Sam smiled. “I talk and talk but you just walk. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just…”

“Am I boring you?”

He half attempted a smirk. “Don’t you usually?”

“You’re ok?”

“Yeah, just tired. April said you wanted to talk about 726. What is 726?”

Sam looked at him for another minute and finally nodded. “Preschool programs for children with special needs. The Children’s Rights Council is drafting it with Brett Allen and Mark Wilson.”

“Yeah?”

“Republicans are going to fight it tooth and…”

“Last week I ran into someone from the first campaign,” Josh said, cutting him off.

Sam paused a beat, waiting for Josh to go on. When he realized he wasn’t going to, he asked, “Really? Who?”

“Donna Moss,” he said as casually as possible.

“Donna Moss, who’s… oh.”

“Yeah.” He looked over to Sam and shrugged. “So, I ran into her last week.”

..............

“Hypothetically, what would you do if you started having romantic feelings for someone on your staff?”

“It’s a long shot campaign with no money. I don’t have a staff.”

“Hypothetically, Sam. Say you had… an assistant. And you started… you know.”

“Sleeping with her?”

“No! Having feelings. Just feelings. You haven’t acted on them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. It’s my hypothetical question; I should know what I mean by it.”

“Ok. So, I have the hots for the tall, blonde, young, witty, gorgeous assistant I don’t have.”

“Not the hots, exactly. It’s… different. It’s more than that.”

“And does she feel the same way?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Yes.”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, I’d transfer her to another department so I didn’t get sued for sexual harassment, then I’d break up with my girlfriend who could and would kill me for even having this discussion. Then I’d ask her out.”

“Really?”

“No. I’d probably ignore it and hope it goes away, but that would really suck.”

“Yeah.”

“So, how are things working out with your new assistant? Donna, right?”

..............

“You ran into Donna Moss?” He nodded, still very far away. “So, how’d it go?”

“Fine I guess. She said hi, I said hi, then I left.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re ok?”

He nodded and spoke with authority. “Absolutely.” Except that she plagued him. He’d spent the last eight days congratulating himself for making her feel small while at the same time berating himself for letting her pop into his head with no notice. 

“You know, you never told her.”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Sam.”

“You brought it up.”

He looked at his friend and sighed. “Yeah. Why are the republicans gonna fight 726?”

********** 

Later he’d wonder why he’d gone to the dry cleaners the next morning before leaving for Indiana. It was a one-day trip, he didn’t need anything from there to make it, but for whatever reason, he’d stopped by Grace’s Custom Cleaners before heading to the White House. And why didn’t he know? He should’ve known. He should’ve sensed it. Sensed her. But he didn’t. He walked into the cleaners, straight up to the counter, and said hello to Grace before turning to his left and straight into her eyes.

“How are you this morning, Mr. Lyman?” Grace asked him sweetly. 

“Good,” he answered distractedly, still looking at Donna who watched him the same way.

“I’ll get your things and be right back.”

It took him a few seconds to tear his eyes from Donna. “Thanks,” he said as the elderly woman walked away.

It was quiet for a minute after that, neither of them talking. He looked straight ahead and seconds felt like hours of deafening silence. Finally, he heard someone speak. “It always takes them forever to find things back there.” He was startled to recognize it as his own voice.

She chuckled, but it was forced. He knew her chuckle, even after all this time. “I’ve only been here a few times, but I’ve noticed.” It was quiet for another long minute. “They do a great job, though,” she said tentatively.

“Yeah,” he replied, elbows on the counter as he pretended to read a flyer taped to it. “Yeah.”

“So, how’s the campaign going?”

His eyes went huge. How dare she? How dare she ask about the campaign after she left him during the first one? How dare she stand here in his dry cleaners, talking to him like they were old pals who hadn’t seen each other in a few months. He stood up slowly and turned towards her, ready to let her have it, but when his eyes met hers, he saw that she was nervous. More than that, really, she was scared. And even as he mentally cursed himself, he smiled slightly. “Well, thanks.”

She nodded, her smile fragile, even as she tried to lighten the mood. “It must be going well if you have time to pick up your own dry cleaning.” 

..............

“Can you get a volunteer to drop this off at the cleaners? I don’t have time.”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I’ll go.”

“You can have a volunteer do it.”

“I am a volunteer.”

“Still…”

“It’s my job to make your life easier, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’m heading out now.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Here. Take this. Pick us up lunch.”

“Twenty bucks? I can buy my own lunch, Josh.” 

“And I can pick up my own dry cleaning.”

“And when you’re not busy, you will.”

“You’re spoiling me, I might get used to it.”

“And I might get used to free lunch.”

“Medium starch on those shirts.”

....................

“Here you go Mr. Lyman. Medium starch, just like you like it.”

He blinked a few times. “Thanks Grace. Charge my account.” He looked at Donna one more time and turned to leave. 

“Do good Josh,” she said quietly as he pushed the door open.

His breath caught in his throat. Once again she’d stolen it and he had no idea how. He told himself not to look back, to keep walking, but his feet just stopped right there in the doorway and as if he had no power over himself, he turned and looked back at her. “Thanks Donna,” he said quietly. 

Damn, he’d missed that hundred watt smile of hers.


	3. Running into the Past

He and Toby missed the motorcade in Indiana and proceeded to get lost for two and a half days, finally meeting up with it again in Iowa and then going to Ohio. By the time they landed in DC again, he’d been in the same suit for four days.

................ 

“Where are the keys to your hotel room?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to get you a clean outfit.”

“Why?”

“You smell.”

“I smell?”

“Probably. I’m afraid to breathe through my nose when I’m this close to you.”

.................

After what he deemed as the week from hell, he was told by Leo to take off Sunday. He normally hated taking off Sunday’s. He always ended up working anyway, he just had to do it from home, which meant April and Jason weren’t there to assist him.

On this particular Sunday in August, however, he agreed he needed to relax. So he slept in until nine o’clock, checked in with Sam at the office and then took a long shower before throwing on some khaki shorts, an old Harvard t-shirt, and some sandals, grabbing his paper and walking down to the Baked and Wired for coffee and a bagel.

He was sitting quietly in the corner where only the most insane of his few fans would find him, reading a story in the sports section about the new manager for the Mets when she walked in. He didn’t see her exactly, but the hairs on his arms stood up all the same, as if warning him. He looked up casually over the top of the paper and saw her at the counter wearing a pair of navy shorts and a white tank top over a light blue one, her hair pulled into a sloppy pony tail, her face flushed, and a sheen of sweat on her neck. She’d obviously been working out and the first thing through his mind was to wonder what her neck would taste like right then, which infuriated him and made him want to run away from her. Instead, he put the paper back up so it was covering his face again and tried to concentrate on what he’d previously been so engrossed in. Maybe she wouldn’t see him. He hated that part of him hoped she would.

“The Mets got a new manager,” he heard a minute later.

He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. Be cold, be standoffish, you’re not interested in carrying on a conversation with her. One more deep breath and he folded down the corner of the newspaper so he could see her, being careful not to smile. She looked even better up close. “I was just reading that,” he said, making sure to keep an even voice. He could feel his pulse beating.

She smiled at him and he closed his eyes briefly to fight off the sight of it. “They’re having a good year. Only three games out of first,” she said, standing over him with a bottle of water and a plastic container of strawberries.

“Mmm…hmm,” he said, going back to his paper and trying to look uninterested. 

.................

“The Mets?”

“Yes.”

“The Mets?”

“Yes.”

“We’re fans of the Mets?”

“I am. You’ll need to learn to be.”

“How much do I need to know?”

“Stats, players, record, things like that. Once the season starts, we’ll watch some games together so I can teach you the important things.”

“And this is part of my job description?”

“An important part.”

“So, goodbye Cubs?”

“Goodbye Cubs.”

................

“They swept the Cubs this week.”

He sighed and spoke dismissively to her. “I’ve missed their last few games actually. I’ve been busy with work.” 

She didn’t seem to take the hint. Instead, she sat down at the table next to him and opened her strawberries. “Woodward’s been playing well.”

“What about Piazza?” escaped his mouth before he could stop it.

She unscrewed the cap of her water. “He threw out two players stealing second Thursday night.”

He put the paper down and leaned forward. “Two?” She nodded. “How’s he batting?”

She shrugged. “He didn’t get any hits. He might’ve been walked, I don’t remember?”

“Last week he had two homeruns.”

“Woodward had three.”

“Woodward’s no one.”

“Josh, Woodward’s the best player on the team!”

“No way, Donna. He’s got potential, I’ll give him that. But he’s only what, 25 years old?”

“He’s a natural. Plus, he’s the shortstop.”

He looked at her, a smirk forming. “I’m aware of his position Donnatella. As for being the best player on the team, I’m gonna have to see that for myself.”

She laughed at him. “Well, your assistant should be taping the games for you when you’re busy, then you’d see he’s the best on the team.”

And when she said that, his smirk disappeared. He looked down at his table and closed his eyes. He’d done it again. He let her suck him in again.

Without looking at her, he stood up and picked up his empty coffee cup. She looked at him, confused as he turned around, looking for a trashcan. “Is something wrong?” she asked with worry in her voice when he picked up his newspaper.

“I’ve got to get to the office,” he mumbled, turning and walking towards the door without saying goodbye. She called his name out, but he kept going.

********** 

He was panting by the time he made it home. Without going into the townhouse, he hit the power locks on his car and tore open the door, then got in the front seat and sat there for a for several long seconds before hitting the steering wheel with both hands and shouting, “You fucking idiot!” After another minute, he started the car and drove to work.

Why’d she have to have that look on her face? That amazing smile of hers that made him feel like it was only for him. Those bright blue eyes of hers dancing, making her look innocent and sexy at the same time. The laughter in her voice, pulling him into the past. A few sentences and he was lost in her again.

He wondered the halls, not even pretending to work, looking for something to take his mind off of her. The hallways were fairly empty and before long, he found himself in the communications bullpen where Sam and Toby were finishing up a campaign speech the President was giving the next week. CJ was sitting on Toby’s couch with her feet up, drinking a diet coke and laughing at them. He walked to the door and Sam looked up.

“I thought Leo made you take the day off.” He shrugged and sat down next to CJ.

“What’s up o’ pal of mine?” she asked him. He shrugged again, staring at a vase on the coffee table. CJ looked at Sam and Toby for help.

“I was telling them about Matt Kelley and our college tax credit idea,” Toby said.

...............

“That’s not what this is about.”

“What’s it about?”

“Education, Donna. Education.”

“Not crime?”

“It looks like crime, but it all boils down to education. All of it.”

“How?”

“If we fix education, the rest falls in line. Better education means less poverty. Less poverty equals less crime, equals fewer drugs, equals fewer prisons, equals a better America.”

“So it all boils down to education.”

“Yes.”

“Which means it all boils down to kids.”

“Absolutely. They need to be our top priority. Pre-school through college. Our top priority.”

..............

“We think it should be top priority. Can Jason start research on it tomorrow?” Sam asked him. “We want to pitch it to Leo by mid-week.”

He didn’t answer. “Josh?” CJ asked.

“Yeah,” he said, looking up from the flower arrangement. “Yeah. I started yesterday. I’ll work on it some today and get Jason on it tomorrow.”

“Good,” Sam answered him. “How was your morning? I thought you were going to Baked and Wired to read the paper, drink coffee, and ignore us all day.”

“It was good. Fine. Good…I guess,” he answered distractedly. “It was fine. I ran into Donna again.” 

“Oh…”

“Donna?” asked CJ. “A new love interest, Joshua?”

“What? No!” he screeched, snapping his head in her direction.

“I’m working on a speech here,” Toby said. 

She ignored Toby and smiled an evil grin at Josh. “You sure about that?” 

Josh looked to Sam who spoke up. “Donna was his assistant during the first campaign.” 

She turned to Sam. “We didn’t have assistants during the… the blonde?”

“A speech the President’s giving on Tuesday,” Toby said as everyone continued to ignore him.

“Yeah,” Sam said to CJ.

Her smile got bigger. “The one he wouldn’t share?”

..................

“Donna, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you could help me with something for a few minutes?”

“Sure, Ms. Cregg.”

“CJ, please. You’re making me…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.”

“Yes, Josh. Is there something you need?”

“Yes. I need you to get away from my assistant.”

“I need to borrow her for…”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. She’s very busy doing things for me.”

“It’s ok. I have a few minutes.”

“See, she has a few minutes.”

“No she doesn’t.”

“She just said…”

“Step away from the assistant, CJ.”

“But…”

“She’s mine. Go get your own.”

................

“She was mine. You were trying to steal her.”

“She was incredibly organized. We were all trying to steal her,” Toby said, still looking at his speech.

“How is she?” CJ asked.

“Fine, I guess. I didn’t talk to her much.” He turned back to Toby. “What do you mean, you were all trying to steal her?”

“I mean we all tried to steal her. For God knows what reason, she liked working with you. Can I work on my speech now?”


	4. Running into the Past

It was another two weeks before he saw her again, and by then the craving he felt to see her face nearly outweighed his need to hate her. And it was a need, he determined. He needed to hate her, to blame her, to have nothing to do with her for his own sanity. The trouble was, trying to hate her was driving him absolutely insane.

When he did see her, it was 6:15 on a Tuesday morning. He’d been working unbelievably hectic hours, hadn’t gotten home until after two the night before and the alarm had gone back off at 5:45 that morning. Between campaigning and regular work, three hours of sleep a night had been the norm recently, and he could feel it catching up with him. Still, he welcomed the distraction. The more he worked, the less time he had to think of her. To think of her long neck and her big blue eyes and her innocent smile. To wonder if she was with Dr. FreeRide, if they were married, if they had kids. The thought made him extremely jealous, which in turn made him angry at himself. He thought he’d gotten over those feelings years earlier. If she’d only stayed away. 

So he sat in his car at 6:15 that morning on his way to work, and as he waited for the light he was at to turn green, she jogged up to the corner in the same outfit he’d seen her in at the Baked and Wired. She didn’t see him and he was glad, because he found he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she pulled her ponytail holder out of hair, pulled her hair back, and redid it to keep her it off her neck in the late August heat. Then she jogged directly in front of his car and he looked down as though he was looking at his stereo and watched her out of the corner of his eye, thankful he was wearing sunglasses.

As she jogged, she glanced at his car and he knew she either recognized it or him inside, because she smiled and started to wave. But he kept his head down as if he hadn’t seen her and after a brief pause, her smile disappeared and she continued jogging across the street and down the sidewalk, looking back at him once and taking his stomach and heart along with her. He watched her go as long as he could until finally, the car behind him honked and he looked up to see that his light was green.

That night, he dreamt of her. He hadn’t had a nightmare about Roslyn in over a year, but that night he dreamt she was there with him, as his assistant. But unlike April, she was standing next to him, and when he was shot, she helped him sit down against a wall with a small smile, and he believed instantaneously he was going to be ok. Then she handed him a note. Through his blurred vision, he read it. 'I’m sorry Josh, I have to go. Do good. Donna.' He looked up as she jogged away from him wearing navy gym shorts and a white tank top.

**********

A few days later, Sam walked into his office and sat down in the visitor’s chair with a tired sigh. Josh glanced up at him but then went back to the half-written bill in his hand. “Yes?”

“I recall a life in which I slept, dated, watched sitcoms and ate things on plates instead of out of plastic containers.”

“I recall no such life.”

He yawned. “How late last night?”

Josh put his pen and the bill down then propped his head up on his hands on his desk. “Three.”

“When did you get in this morning?”

“6:30.”

“That’s even less sleep than me.”

Josh shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been doing that for weeks.”

“It’s fine.”

“Josh…”

...............

“Josh…”

“I’m fine.”

“When was the last time you left the office?”

“There’s a lot to do.”

“It’s been weeks. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I get more done at night.”

“Killing yourself working isn’t going to make you stop thinking about her.”

“Well something has to!”

“Josh…”

“It has to, Sam. It has to.”

“Yeah…”

“It doesn’t make sense. She’s been gone longer than she was here. Why can’t I… It was only six weeks.”

“There's no schedule to those things.”

“Why’d she leave?”

................

“Why’d she leave?”

Sam gave him a small smile. “She went back to her boyfriend.”

“I would’ve…” he looked back down at his desk, took a deep breath and then looked back at Sam. “I gotta get back to work. Did you need something besides food on a plate?”

Sam stared at him for several seconds before standing up. “726.”

“Special needs pre-school programs.”

“Right.”

“What about it?”

“Toby thinks we should get Allen and Wilson to shelve it until after the election.”

Josh stood up and walked to his door with Sam. “You disagree?”

“I think we should get in on it; try to push it through. Passing an education bill in September or October would help with the elections. And not just us, it’d help with tight congressional and senatorial races too. Plus it’s, you know… good for kids with special needs.”

Josh nodded. “We’d have a better chance of passing it if we win back the house.”

“We’d have a better chance of winning back the house if we passed it.”

He looked at Sam for a minute before yelling for April. She spun in her chair to face him and gave him a questioning look. “Call the Children’s Rights Council and get a copy of 726.” She nodded and turned back to her desk. 

********** 

The following Sunday, he left the office at eight o’clock, the earliest he’d left since the Sunday he had off and ended up working anyway three weeks earlier. He was out of coffee at the townhouse and stopped at the Safeway in his neighborhood for a few staples, and as much as he hated grocery shopping, he couldn’t go another day without coffee. So at 8:15, he walked into the Safeway and picked up a basket, heading through but not into the produce section. 

She was knocking on watermelons when he saw her, and he was struck not for the first time at exactly how beautiful she was, standing there in loose fitting jeans, a Georgetown t-shirt and sandals, with what looked like no make-up on and her hair down around her shoulders. She looked fresh and beautiful and young and, also not for the first time, he found it extremely hard to breathe.

She looked over at him and he looked away, but it was too late. She’d seen him watching her and was smiling at him. He was standing next to a display of bananas and started looking at them, pulling a plastic bag from the roll hanging over them and putting a few inside even though he didn’t like bananas.

“So, we must live near each other,” she said tentatively a minute later.

He put the bananas in his basket and told himself to ignore her and move on into the rest of the store, but instead found himself looking at nectarines. “Guess so.” The truth was, he knew exactly where she lived. He’d seen her car three weeks earlier on Olive Street NW, three blocks from his townhouse.

She picked up a watermelon then and put it into her cart. Another one slipped and started to roll down the pile and she reached out to catch it before it rolled to the floor. Two more from the top of the pile started rolling then and she put her other arm up to catch them, her body and arms twisted awkwardly around the display. He found himself rooted to the spot as he watched her try to keep them from falling. After a few seconds, she looked over at him. “Could you uh…help me here?”

.................

“Could you help me with something?”

“Sure, what?”

“According to this, the governor voted against the morning after pill. But according to this, he voted in favor of it.”

“Ooh.”

“Yeah. That’s not good, right? That’s wishy washy?”

“Wishy washy?”

“Yes.”

“Is that a word?”

“Of course it is.”

“I’ve never heard that word.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t one.”

“I’m just saying, I had a 760 verbal on my SAT’s and I’ve never heard that word.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed by your SAT score?”

“Most people are.”

“You have a habit of telling people your SAT score?” 

“Only people I’m trying to impress.”

“Or tease.”

“Right.”

“What about this morning after pill thing?”

“There was probably something he was opposed to in the bill the first time. Maybe it restricted who could take it or the reasons it could be taken. Or maybe the drug hadn’t gone through enough testing and he didn’t think it was safe.”

“You think?”

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. Thanks.”

“Hey Donna?”

“Yeah?”

“Good catch.”

................

“Josh, I’m about to make a huge mess here.”

He focused on her again, put his basket on the floor and walked quickly to where she was standing awkwardly leaning against the watermelon display. “Good catch,” he said as took one of the watermelons from her hand and put it carefully on top of the others. He took one of the others and did the same as she slowly and carefully stood upright, holding the last of the three that had almost fallen. 

“Thank you,” she said, embarrassed.

This was the closest they’d stood since the day in the gas station six weeks earlier, and he could smell the shampoo in her hair and see the freckles on her nose. “You’re welcome,” he said in a voice he didn’t quite recognize as he took the last watermelon from her hands. Their fingers brushed lightly and he had the nearly overwhelming urge to take her face in his hands and kiss her. Instead, he turned around abruptly and put the watermelon into his basket.

“You didn’t knock on it,” she said.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows as he picked up the basket, now much heavier. “Knock on it?”

“To see if it’s hollow.”

“Hollow?”

She knocked on his watermelon. “They sound hollow when they’re ripe.”

“Ah…kay.”

She looked up at him and smiled and he was lost again. “They do!”

He tilted his head. “Where do you get this stuff?”

“It’s well known stuff, Josh,” she said, walking back to her cart.

He smirked at her and started walking slowly. “If you say so.” 

She walked next to him with her cart as they walked into the bread section. He picked up a loaf of Sunbeam and put it into his basket, which was nearly full and starting to hurt his arm. “You don’t live in Wisconsin anymore,” he said out of the blue.

She took the bread out of his basket, switching it with wheat bread, then put a loaf of the same thing into her cart as he watched with wide eyes. “I moved here two years ago. But I just moved to Georgetown in June; a few weeks before I saw you at the Shell on P Street.”

“Why DC?” he asked as casually as possible as he mentally berated himself for hoping she didn’t say anything about a man. 

“Law school,” she said casually as she guided him to the deli. The woman behind the counter looked at her. “A half-pound of turkey breast. Shaved, please.”

“Law school?” he asked surprised.

She looked at him and smiled. “I just started my last year a few weeks ago.”

He looked down at her t-shirt. “At Georgetown?”

“Yep.”

He smiled at her then, maybe for the first time since this whole thing started six weeks before. “What type of law?”

“Child advocacy.”

“Child advocacy?”

She turned and took the turkey from the woman behind the deli counter. “Someone once told me that children need to be our top priority,” she said in shy voice.

He started at her with wide eyes, his mouth open and his breathing quickened. Someone said something to him but he couldn’t make it out. Finally, she turned her head slowly and looked at him and they both smiled giddy, goofy smiles. “Sir?” someone asked him again.

He turned his head then, looking at the woman in the deli. “Same thing,” he said dazedly, looking back at Donna.


	5. Running into the Past

CJ and Sam walked into his office at six thirty the next morning laughing at a comment Ritchie’d made to the press the night before, making himself look like an idiot once again. Josh was already at his desk working, had been since 5:15 after giving up on falling asleep. 

“Good morning, Joshua. It’s a lovely day,” CJ said cheerfully.

“Its 97 degrees with a heat index of 112,” he responded while making a note in the margins of the college tax credit file.

“Well, except for that,” she said, refusing to be brought down after reading Ritchie’s comment in the morning Post. “Did you read what Ritchie said last night?” she asked, waving her paper in front of him.

He looked up and raised his eyebrows. “No, the paper hadn’t been delivered when I left this morning. What’s it say?”

“What time did you leave this morning?” Sam asked.

“Five. Couldn’t sleep. What’d he say?” he asked CJ again.

She gave him an evil smile and read from the front page. “We’ve got problems in America and we need serious people to deal with them. President Bartlet claims to be a Nobel Prize winner, but we…”

He cut her off. “Claims to be?”

“Wait, it gets better. ‘But we need someone to be tough on crime, tough on drugs, someone who understands the importance of education and who will focus on our poverty level, someone who understands that those two things are collated and wants to put a stop to them.”

“Wants to put a stop to education and poverty?”

“Yes,” Sam said smiling. “Because they’re collated.”

Josh chuckled. “We’re sure he’s not on our side?”

CJ folded the paper and plopped down in a chair across from Josh’s desk. “Some idiot in the press is going to bring this up. Probably Danny.” She looked up at Josh with wide eyes. “Is that yogurt on your desk?”

He looked down offensively at the yogurt and banana on his desk. “I was going to eat it for breakfast, but I couldn’t force myself to open it.”

Toby walked up to the door then carrying a copy of the Post. “Did you guys read what Ritchie said last night?”

“Yes,” CJ said, standing up and taking the yogurt and spoon from Josh’s desk. “When Danny asks about it, I should be sure to mention that we don’t want to put an end to education, right?”

“Yes.”

“What about the banana?” Sam asked out of the blue.

Josh looked up at him. “What?”

“The banana. Are you gonna eat that?”

Josh looked at him with raised eyebrows and tossed it to him. “What do you think?” 

“I think you hate bananas because you threw one up in college after a night of drinking tequila,” he answered while unpeeling it.

“You’re giving food away?” Toby asked.

Josh leaned back and propped his feet up on his desk. “There’s more in the fridge,” he said, nodding towards the small refrigerator in his outer office.

“Do I need to say anything about the Nobel Prize?” CJ asked as she started eating the yogurt.

Toby opened the fridge. “If someone asks, make a joke of it. ‘Ritchie claims to be a high school graduate. Because there’s actual proof to back it up, we don’t dispute his claim.’ Something like that.” He paused. “Where’d all this food come from?”

Josh looked over at him. “I went grocery shopping last night.”

“And brought the food here?”

“I’m only home three or four hours a day. I don’t need it there rotting.”

Toby rooted around for a minute. “I’m having a turkey sandwich,” he said, putting the turkey breast on top of the fridge.

“Make me one too," Josh sighed.

“Ooh,” Sam said excitedly around a bite of banana. “I’ll have one.”

“Spicy mustard, yogurt, canned vegetables, skim milk. You brought two cans of asparagus to work and put them in the fridge?”

“I didn’t know what to do with them!” Josh exclaimed.

CJ looked over at him and laughed. “What happened at the grocery store?” 

He sat up and put his elbows on his desk. “I don’t know. I was talking to someone. Every time she put something in her cart, I put it in my basket. Next thing I knew, I had fifty dollars worth of groceries and my arm hurt.”

“Was it…” Sam asked Josh quietly, raising his eyebrows at the end.

“Shut up, Sam,” Josh said, banging his head on his desk.

“A watermelon?” Toby asked, peeking over the top of the refrigerator door at Josh.

“Ooh,” CJ said excitedly. “Let’s eat that.”

**********

By mid September, he was ready to declare himself certifiably insane. He’d catch himself in a mirror with a huge grin on his face and realize he was thinking of her, only to then torture himself for allowing her to enter his mind. He couldn’t remember laughing or smiling the way he had in that grocery store in ages, and why was it that when he wasn’t near her, it was easy to blame her and think her evil, but when he saw her smile and heard her voice, his heart was so ready to forgive?

And he couldn’t help but be in awe of how they could go back to that place so easily. Was it her? Was she that good at getting them back there? He didn’t think so. Every time they’d seen each other, the conversation had started out awkwardly. And every time, within minutes, four years would have disappeared and it would be the easiest conversation he’d had in ages. Conversation was never easy with Amy and arguing was never as much fun.

More than two months had passed since he’d seen her that first time. Since she’d come back into his life and stolen what small part of his heart she hadn’t taken the first time. More than two months and he still knew so little about her. There was no ring on her finger, but he didn’t know for sure she wasn’t married. Or maybe she wasn’t married, but maybe she was seeing someone. And maybe it was serious. He told himself it wasn’t his business and that he didn’t care. In fact, he told himself that over and over and over again until one day, seeing her with another man made him sick and furious and sad and humiliated and scared all at once. 

He was at lunch with Sam and she walked into the restaurant wearing a navy business suit that made her legs look stunning. The neckline of the shirt she was wearing was just enough to make him want to see more without showing anything inappropriate, and his first thought was that she looked so different from the way she had in jeans and a t-shirt the last time he’d seen her. She looked… professional.

She didn’t see him and he was aware that he’d become completely oblivious to what Sam was saying to him as he watched the host take her to a table in the front near a window. That’s when he saw Brett Allen, a moderate democrat congressman from Oregon. He couldn’t hear what she said to him, but he saw Brett smile at her as she slid into the booth across from him, and just like that Josh nearly vomited up the burger and fries he was eating.

.................

“That guy was hitting on you.”

“No he wasn’t.”

“Donna, I know when a man’s hitting on a woman. He was hitting on you.”

“Nah. He was just hoping I could get him a meeting with you.”

“Well for future reference, men who look at you like that don’t get meetings with me.”

“Josh…”

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just trying to decide if that was barbaric or sweet.”

“Men aren’t sweet.”

“So it was barbaric?”

“No, it was…”

“Sweet.”

“Chivalrous.”

“Chivalrous?”

“Yes, I’m a prince amongst men.”

“I’m gonna be sick. Thank you, by the way.”

................

“Are you going to be sick?” Sam asked him quietly.

Josh couldn’t take his eyes off Donna. “Maybe, I'm not sure."

“Do we need to leave?” he asked, noticing Josh’s erratic breathing and pale face.

“She…” he trailed off and Sam stared at him for a few seconds before finally following his gaze until his eyes landed on Donna.

“That’s her?” Sam asked. Josh nodded slowly but didn’t say anything. “She looks good.” He didn’t respond and Sam tried again to get his attention. “Josh, what’s wrong?”

He snapped his head in Sam’s direction. “What? Nothing,” he said, trying to sound casual while sirens started blaring in his head.

“Nothings wrong?” he asked him, doubtfully.

He looked back towards Donna and Brett Allen, his breathing speeding up. “No.”

“You look like your either going to throw up or hit someone.” Again, he didn’t respond. “Josh…”

“She’s on a fucking date,” he whispered harshly, his mind snapping.

“What?”

“I can’t believe it. She’s on a date with Brett Allen.”

“How do you know?”

“They’re right there!” he said a bit louder, gesturing towards them.

“Calm down.”

“I can’t believe… she… I thought…” he threw his napkin down and started to stand up.

“Josh, you can’t go over there and make a scene,” Sam said sternly, putting his hand on Josh’s arm.

Josh looked at him and ripped his arm out of Sam’s grasp. “I’m not. I’m leaving.”

.................

“I’m leaving.”

“Josh, no one wants you to leave.”

“That’s obviously not the case.”

“You need help Josh. We just want you to get help.”

“I don’t need help. I need everyone to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Josh, last month you yelled at the President in the Oval Office. You freaked out during a Yo Yo Ma concert. You shoved your hand through a window.”

“That was an accident.”

“Bullshit. Yesterday you fired Jason. Today you fired April. You took a swing at Toby. You told Leo to go to hell.”

“Go to hell Sam.”

“You don’t eat. You don’t sleep, except that you’re sleeping your way through Washington.”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“I’m trying to help you. You need help. Sit down and talk to me, Josh.” 

..................

“Josh, sit down and talk to me.”

“I’ve got to get…” he trailed off as Donna looked over and noticed him standing there next to his table. She smiled and nodded at him.

“Josh, sit down,” Sam said quietly.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t smile back at her, didn’t make a move to leave. He found he couldn’t do anything. He was frozen in place with a furious look on his face just watching her as she put her napkin on her table and got out of the booth. 

“Hi,” she said quietly when she got to their table. He didn’t say anything to her, and almost instantly her smile disappeared and her eyes widened. She looked down at Sam. “Hello,” she said tentatively, looking back at Josh.

Sam stuck out his hand and she shook it, never taking her eyes off Josh. “Hi. Donna, right?”

“Umm… yes. I used to…” she trailed off. “Josh,” she said quietly. “Are you ok?”

He wanted to scream at her. Wanted to call her a whore, a bitch, a hundred other things he’d hate himself for later. He wanted her to feel as helpless and hurt as he did right then. He was furious, and not with her, but with himself. He’d begun to let himself believe that maybe… and now she’d done exactly what he’d told himself she’d do and he wasn’t prepared for it and he had no one to blame but himself. He wanted her to feel like that. Instead, he said, “Fine,” curtly and looked over at Brett Allen with dead eyes. 

“So Donna,” Sam said again, standing up. “What brings you to DC?”

She looked at Sam but kept one eye on Josh. “I… uh… I work for the Children’s Rights Council here in town.”

“What?” Josh asked, snapping his head back to her.

She looked at him with a worried face. “I work for the Children’s Rights Council.” 

“You do?” he asked her, glancing back to Brett Allen who was casually looking at the menu and then back at her.

“Yes.” She looked back to Sam as if looking for answers. “I… I actually have a meeting with you tomorrow.”

Sam tilted his head. “You do?”

She smiled, although it looked forced and out of place, and wrapped her hand around Josh’s arm as she spoke to Sam. In spite of himself, his breathing started slowing down and he felt better. He hated himself for that too. “Yes. We’re working on 726 with Congressmen Allen and Wilson. In fact, we’re meeting now to discuss a few last minute things before tomorrow.”

“You are?” Josh asked in almost a whisper.

She shrugged and tried once again to smile. “Well, we are if Congressman Wilson ever shows up. He’s stuck in a meeting.” Her voice got softer. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

He focused on her eyes then and saw worry and a little fear in them, and he hated himself all over again for putting that look there. He forced a smile and she bit her bottom lip. “Yeah. I…” He shook his head and tried to play it off. “I wasn’t feeling well, but it’s passed. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?” she asked him, looking intently in his face.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She glanced back at her table and saw that Congressman Wilson had arrived. “I guess I better get back,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, matching her tone.

She looked over at Sam. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at ten, Mr. Seaborne.”

“Sam,” he said, smiling at her and shaking her hand again.

She nodded and smiled softly at him before turning back to Josh. “Maybe I’ll see you there,” she said tentatively, almost asking.

He nodded again and tried to speak casually over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. “Come early. I’ll give you a tour.”

Her smile widened and the pounding started to fade. “Really?”

“Sure,” he said, trying to smiling back.

“I’ll bring breakfast,” she said cheerfully, backing away from him.

He nodded and sat heavily in his chair, waiting until she’d turned away to bury his face in his hands.

“Josh…” Sam said quietly.

“I’ll call him when we get back to the office.”


	6. Running into the Past

When he walked into the office the next morning at 7:15, Sam was sitting in his chair waiting on him. “Did you go?” he asked quietly as Josh shut the door.

Josh sighed and put his backpack down on his desk. “I told you I would.”

Sam stood up so Josh could get to his desk. “No you didn’t. You told me you’d call him. Now I’m asking if you went.”

“Yes.” He walked around his desk and sat down heavily in his chair. “I spent two hours in his office last night.”

“And you told him about Donna?”

................

“Donna lives in DC now.”

“Donna? Donna, Donna?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

...................

“He’s my psychiatrist, Sam. He already knew about her.”

Sam sat down in a visitor’s chair, surprised. “He did?” Josh nodded. “I didn’t know you still thought about her enough to...”

“I do,” Josh said quietly, cutting him off. 

Sam nodded and the room was quiet for a minute. “So, what’d he say?” he finally asked. 

“I do most of the talking,” Josh said vaguely, spinning in his chair and looking out the window.

“What’d you say?”

..................

“What did you just say?”

“I thought it was a date and I was mad because I was starting to let myself trust her again.”

“Yet a few minutes ago, you said…”

“What?”

“You don’t remember? I asked why you were keeping your distance from her and you said...”

“Because the last thing I can do is let myself trust her again.”

“Yeah.”

“See, I told you I’m nuts.”

“You’re not nuts. But you have to decide, do you want to trust her again or not? Do you want to let her into your life again or not?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

.....................

“I don’t know, I said a lot of stuff.”

Sam watched the back of his head for a minute before saying anything. “Listen Josh. I’m not trying to pry. I just… what happened yesterday hadn’t happened in a while.”

He spun around and faced him again. “I know. I needed to go. I’m glad I went.”

“Did it help?”

He shrugged and offered a small smile. “I slept last night.”

Sam smiled back. “That’s a start. You gonna be ok seeing her today?”

“I have no idea.”

********** 

“April!”

“I see you’re still not a fan of the intercom.”

He looked up and his face broke into a large grin, his dimples out in full force while at the same time his heart started beating a mile a minute. Donna stood in his doorway wearing a grey skirt and a pink blouse, her hair down and a touch of make-up on. She was holding a Baked and Wired bag in one hand and a brief case in the other. 

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked as he stood up and walked around his desk towards her.

.................

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Just for a minute. I like to watch you work.”

“Why?”

“It’s like I’m watching the world get better.”

...............

She shrugged. “Just for a minute. Are you making the world a better place?”

He looked back at the folder on his desk. “I’m trying to make college affordable.”

“You are making the world a better place.” She smiled like she was ten again and they stood there staring at each other until April made a sound from behind Donna.

Josh reluctantly looked up at her. “What?”

“You called me.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s nothing. Hold my calls.” He looked back to Donna and tilted his head, motioning for her to come inside. “You brought breakfast,” he said to her as he closed the door and started clearing a stack of files off a visitor’s chair.

“Fruit salad and bagels,” she said quietly. 

He looked at her for several seconds, her looking back at him while biting her lower lip. It was the first time in four years they’d been really alone. Finally, he took a deep breath and pulled the chair up to his desk, motioning to it awkwardly. “Have a seat,” he said, taking the bag from her and sitting it on his desk. 

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” she asked nervously, looking around his office.

He shook his head, thinking about the work he’d tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on earlier. “Nah,” he said, getting paper plates and a few individual bottles of orange juice from the refrigerator. “College tax credits can wait a few minutes.” 

She watched him for a minute and then started pulling things out of the bag she’d brought, putting a small tub of fruit salad and a cinnamon raisin bagel down in front of his chair. “They forgot forks,” she said rather lamely, looking into the bag.

He stood for a few seconds before spinning on his heals and grabbing a few plastic forks, then he sat down and opened his fruit salad. The room was eerily quiet as he chewed on a strawberry and she picked nervously at her bagel. He looked at her fruit salad and then back at his. “Mine doesn’t have cantaloupe,” he said almost to himself.

..................

“Explain to me this fear of cantaloupe.”

“It’s not a fear, it’s a dislike.”

“Either way, explain it to me.”

“Well for one thing, it’s orange.”

“I can see that.”

“And people in the south call it mush melon.”

“My grandmother calls it that.”

“Obviously it’s not right to eat anything with the word ‘mush’ in it.”

“Obviously.”

..............

“Well,” she said with nervous laughter in her voice. “I know how you are about eating things with the word ‘mush’ in them.” 

He looked up at her and smiled, the awkwardness fading quickly. “Not to mention the fact that it’s orange.”

“Right.”

“So,” he said, spreading cream cheese on his bagel. “You work for the Children’s Rights Council.”

“Yes, for the last two years,” she said, popping a grape in her mouth.

“And you’re in law school.”

...................... 

“She’s in law school.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah…”

“What?”

“She’s doing really well for herself.”

“And that’s bad?”

“No, it’s just…”

“What Josh?”

“She probably wouldn’t be in law school if she’d stayed.”

“But you wish she would’ve anyway.”

“Yes.”

“And you feel guilty about that?”

“Yes.”

..................

“Yes, learning to punish the guilty and taint a jury,” she said with a smile.

“Ahh,” he said laughing. “The important things.” She laughed back at him and he tilted his head and looked at her. “I’ve worked on legislation with the council before. Why haven’t I seen you?” 

She swallowed a bite of bagel and wiped her mouth. “I worked in programs until June. A spot became available in the legal/legislative department and they offered it to me with the understanding that it’s temporary until I finish law school. This is actually my first bill.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you nervous?”

.................

“Are you nervous?”

“Josh, I’m about to meet the future President of the United States.”

“So, yes?”

“Yes!”

................

“Josh, I’m a professional.” 

“So, yes?”

She looked at him and then down at the desk. “Incredibly nervous.”

“Don’t be,” he said smiling. “Sam said it looks good.”

She looked up at him. “Have you read it?” she asked in what he thought was a hopeful voice.

He shook his head. “No.” Her smile faltered. “But I skimmed through it this morning. I thought you did a great job.” 

Her smile came back. “Really?” He found it hard to speak when she looked so beautiful, so he nodded idiotically and she bit her lip again, making him want to kiss the little spot her teeth worried.

********** 

“This is CJ’s press room,” he said as they walked into the empty room.

“She’s gotten really good,” Donna said as she walked around the room and came to stand at the podium.

“Yeah,” he said, sitting down in a chair in the front row.

“It’s almost like watching a different person. The way she handles them so easily. I don’t know; it’s like she knows herself better.”

....................

“She’s different.”

“How?”

“She knows herself better.”

“Do you begrudge her that?”

“No, I just wish I could’ve watched it happen.”

“Josh, have you asked yourself if you’re still in love with her?”

“I don’t need to ask myself that. It’s the one thing I know.”

“Even though she’s changed?”

“The little things haven’t changed. She’s still her. She’s just more confident in herself.”

..................

“Its confidence,” he said, not taking his eyes off her. She looked over at him and blushed when saw him staring at her.

“Josh,” Toby said, walking into the room then.

“Yeah?” Josh said, tearing his eyes from Donna and looking at Toby.

“I want to add the college tax credit to the President’s speech in North Carolina next week. You think we’re ready?”

Josh stood up. “Yeah, let’s talk to Leo about it.”

“Afternoon staff.” Toby turned to leave but stopped when he saw Donna standing at the podium. “Hi.”

She smiled softly. “Hi.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Do you want to come work for me?”

She smiled bigger and laughed a little at him. “No thanks.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said, looking at Josh and smiling at the confused look his face.

“I will,” she said, walking down the steps and standing next to Josh.

Josh looked at her and then Toby and then back at her. “She works for the Children’s Rights Council,” he said proudly, watching her the whole time. “She’s meeting with Sam on 726 at ten.”

Toby raised his eyebrows and nodded, but she was looking at Josh with a huge smile on her face. “Children with special needs?” he asked, watching the two of them.

She turned then from Josh and looked at him. “Pre-school programs for children with special needs, yes.”

“Do you have money in it for autistic children?”

Her eyes widened. “Yes,” she said, questioningly. “Why?”

Toby sighed and glanced at Josh before looking back at her. “Two years ago we pushed a bill for children’s diseases and left out autism.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Because we did.”

Josh looked at her. “The bill was going to pass, but a senator staged a filibuster and collapsed fifteen hours into it. The vote was cancelled while they took him to the hospital. Turned out he had an autistic grandson; it looked incredibly bad for the president.”

“Ooh,” she said, wincing.

“Yeah,” Toby said, turning around and heading towards the door. “Let’s talk to Leo during afternoon staff.”

“Kay,” Josh said to him.

“It was nice seeing you, Donna.”

“You too Toby,” she said, smiling at him. 

He waited till Toby was gone before looking at Donna and nodding towards the door. “Ready to see the Mural room?” 

He led her out of the pressroom towards the Mural room, noticing about half way down the hallway that his hand was on her back and he could feel the heat from her skin through her shirt. For a few seconds, he couldn’t breathe, but she either didn’t notice or it didn’t bother her, so he tried to relax and make small talk.

He showed her the Mural Room, the Mess, the Roosevelt Room, the Rose Garden, and the communications bullpen, introducing her to people as they went. “Hey Debbie,” he said as he guided her into the President’s outer office.

“Josh,” she said, not bothering to look up.

“Is he in?”

“No, he’s in the Sit Room.”

“Debbie, this is Donna Moss.” 

She looked up then and smiled at Donna. “Nice to meet you Miss Moss.”

“You too,” Donna said smiling back at her.

“I’m just gonna show her around,” he said, motioning towards the Oval Office.

“Don’t steal anything off his desk,” Debbie said, going back to her work.

He shook his head and opened the door, guiding Donna inside. When they walked in, she stopped suddenly and looked around. “This…”

He laughed. “Yeah.”

She stood in awe for a minute and then turned around and smiled at him. “You work here.”

He smiled back at her playfully. “This isn’t my office.”

“But you do important work here.” He shrugged, embarrassed and she turned around so her back was to him and looked around the office. “He’s very good.”

“Yes,” Josh said quietly.

“That’s due in large part to you.”

..................

“She has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the world.”

“Making everyone feel that way, or making you feel that way?”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me what she does to people. Tell me what she does to you.”

“She used to make me feel like I could do anything?”

”Used to?”

“Then she left me.”


	7. Running into the Past

It was odd to have her here, in his west wing. To have her walk the halls with him and laugh at him and sit in his office. To introduce her to people he’d always thought she should know. He closed his eyes and pictured how differently it would’ve gone four years earlier had she been there with him. He imagined them looking for rooms together their first day there, laughing as they wandered the halls, exploring the basement searching for that secret tunnel everyone thought existed. He’d gotten lost with Sam, but it wasn’t as much fun as it would’ve been with Donna.

He got up and made his way through the communications bullpen, checking in with Toby for the third time since the meeting had started in the Roosevelt Room and then headed casually that way and peeking inside. Sam looked up at him and raised his eyebrows, but he ignored it and watched for another few seconds before turning to head towards Leo’s office. 

“Did you need something?”

He whipped around to see Sam with his head poking out of the room. “I was just…” He turned back and walked the few feet to where Sam was standing before asking quietly, “How’s it going in there?”

“Are you asking how it’s going or how she’s doing?” Sam said with a smile.

He looked through the glass at Donna. “Either… both…” Sam started chuckling next to him and he looked back at him with a scowl. “Shut up. How’s she doing?”

“She has her facts down; statistics, percentages of kids the programs will affect, areas they want to target. She knows which members of congress have voted against similar bills, has a good idea of how the education committee will react to it. Plus she knows the bill like the back of her hand.”

“Yeah?” Josh asked proudly.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, and I’ll tell you what else. She’s gonna make a great lobbyist for this group. She can tug at your heart strings like no one I’ve ever met.”

Josh looked at him pointedly. “I’m aware.”

“Right.” He paused for a second before hooking him thumb towards the room. “I gotta…”

“Kay.”

He started back into the room and then turned around again. “That question about Hamilton a few minutes ago…”

“I just wanted to go in there.”

“Ok.”

********** 

He stood in front of her apartment for almost fifteen minutes before getting up the nerve to buzz her, holding his phone up to his ear on the off-chance she thought to look outside and see him standing there like an idiot trying to talk himself into following through with lunch.

He’d asked her as he walked her to the lobby over a week earlier after her meeting with Sam, shocked at hearing the words come from his mouth. Sam had been standing there too, and had put his head down and smiled, but Josh had chosen to ignore it and focus on the wall over her left shoulder. When she’d said no, he felt like an idiot and wanted nothing more than to turn and walk away from her like she’d done to him, but then she’d explained that she was running late for class, and he’d nodded and smiled, ushering her out the door. His dimples hadn’t appeared, however, until she’d turned around and said, “What about Saturday?”

Saturday hadn’t worked. A Friday trip to Memphis had turned into a weekend trip to Mississippi after the gulf was hit by a tropical storm, and between her classes and work and his campaigning, it was the following weekend before they were able to get together. But this was good, he thought, as he stood there on the stoop with one hand in his pocket and the other clutching his phone. They could relax and take their time today. It was Sunday and he could take his time getting back to the office. The only important thing going on the day was that Sam wanted details, which Josh assured him he wouldn’t get.

He could do this, he told himself. It was lunch, not a marriage proposal. He looked at the phone in his hand and considered calling his psychiatrist, but he’d already done that once that morning, bombarding him with questions the second he’d picked up the phone.

.................

“What if it’s too soon?”

“Hello Josh.”

“Hello. What if it’s too soon?”

“It’s just lunch.”

“What if it’s too late?”

“Her husband will answer the door.”

“Funny. What if I start to freak out again?”

“You’re going to have to stop referring to yourself as a freak. If you feel an attack coming on, excuse yourself to the restroom and call me.”

“I should cancel.”

“Ok.”

“I should?”

“It’s up to you Josh.”

“You’re no help at all.”

“Cancel.”

“No!”

“There’s your answer.” 

.................

One more deep breath and he hit the buzzer, wondering once again if he should’ve brought flowers. No, he told himself. It’s not a date, it’s lunch. The door buzzed and he pulled it open and went to the second floor, knocking on the door with the letter ‘C’ on it. She answered wearing khaki Capri’s and a black spaghetti strap shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. He looked at her for several seconds, suddenly sorry it was lunch and not a date. Finally he smiled and said, “Hi.”

..................

“Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I just wondered if your room looked like mine.”

“It’s a Comfort Inn. Did you think mine would be better decorated?”

“Maybe. I brought beer.”

“What else did you bring, Joshua?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Well… maybe some polling numbers for the southeast.”

“Ahh…”

“I thought since we’re both up…”

“I was in bed.”

“But you’re up now.”

“Because you woke me up.”

“Funny how that works. I brought beer.” 

“You’re lucky you’re cute. Come in.”

....................

“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “Come in.”

He took another deep breath. “Ok.” He walked in and looked around the small living room at a red paisley couch and plants everywhere. “You like plants,” he said idiotically.

She shut the door behind him and he fought the urge to turn and run from her. “They’re not mine. A woman I work with is on a sabbatical in Africa. My lease was coming due and she asked if I’d move in here for six months and water her plants.”

“Ahh…” he said, walking to the mantel and looking at several pictures she wasn’t in.

“Not really my style, I admit. But since I only work part time, it was hard to turn down rent-free living for six months.”

He nodded and turned back around to face her. “What are you gonna do in six months when the Baked and Wired isn’t two blocks away?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

He smiled at her and nodded towards the door. “So, what are you hungry for,” he asked, holding it open for her as she walked out.

They started down the steps and she looked at him and shrugged. “You pick.”

...............

“You pick.”

“Chinese.”

“No.”

“Ok, pizza.”

“Nah.”

“Subs?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What exactly would you like then, Donna?”

“I said you could pick.”

“But that’s obviously not happening.”

“Greek.”

..................

“Ok, how about Greek?” he asked. She scrunched up her nose and he laughed. “You know you want to pick. Just do it.”

She elbowed him in the side with a mock pout on her face. He’d missed her pout. “Do you like Jonathan’s Deli?”

********** 

They walked to Jonathan’s and thirty minutes later, they sat outside under an umbrella, Josh eating a sandwich and Donna a salad. “Can I ask you a question,” she asked quietly and he looked down, suddenly nervous.

“Ok,” he squeaked out. 

“That woman I met last week, Debbie. Is she the President’s secretary?”

His eyes widened in confusion for a second and then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Mrs. Landingham passed away about a year and a half ago.”

She nodded and took a drink of her iced tea. “I know, I was at her funeral,” she said softly.

“You were?”

She looked at him and smiled softly. “Yeah. You looked… really tired.”

“It was a long week,” he said absently before stopping and looking at her. “Wait, you saw me?”

“You were a pallbearer.”

He nodded and they were quiet for another minute while he fought the urge to ask her why she didn’t come up to him at the funeral. He took a bite of his sandwich and pushed the thought out of his head. That week would’ve been the worst time in the world for her to come back into his life. “Now I get to ask you a question,” he said a minute later. 

She smiled and nodded at him. “Ok.”

“What’s your undergrad degree?”

“Political Science with a minor in children’s studies.” He raised his eyebrows. “What?” 

“It’s just… that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“Well,” she said shrugging. “I’d wasted enough time. I needed to get in and get out; one major, one minor, no switching.” He chuckled at her. “My turn. Do you still love what you do?”

“Every day. Do you really like the Mets now?”

“Yes, but I’m not impressed with Piazza. Are you still with Mandy?”

“Mandy!” he choked out. “No. No, no, no. No. No.”

“So, no?” she asked him with an amused look on her face.

He shook his head quickly back and forth. “No. Are you still with…”

“Michael, and no.” He didn’t need to ask himself why that made him so happy and he couldn’t help the smile that formed as a result of it. “Don’t smirk,” she said to him as she stole a potato chip off his plate.

..................

“Donna.”

“Yes?”

“That was mine.”

“What was yours?”

“The French fry you’re chewing.”

“It was yours?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“You just took it off my plate. I’m fairly certain.”

“Yeah, I tend to do that.”

“Do what? Steal?”

“Don’t smirk. I only steal food.”

..............

"Still stealing food I see."

She grinned and took another chip from his plate.


	8. Running into the Past

Sam tapped on his doorframe and he looked up from the latest polling numbers he was reviewing. They’d taken a huge lead after the debate; there was little else to worry about with the election. “Hey, how was California?”

Sam shrugged and walked further into Josh’s office. “Warm.”

“Did you tell the guy to stop campaigning for the dead guy?”

“I told him. He said no.”

Josh laughed. The whole idea was preposterous. “He said no?”

Sam looked down at his hands. “Then I told him if he won, I’d run in the special election.”

Josh’s laughing stopped. “What?”

“It was an accident.”

“You accidentally told someone you’d run for congress?”

Sam looked up at him and spoke quietly but firmly. “Yes.” 

Josh rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair, mumbling, “You have the strangest accidents.” He stopped and looked at Sam. “Is he gonna win?”

“A democrat in Orange County? No,” Sam answered, although without conviction.

“Ok,” Josh said nodding. He looked at his watch and noticed it was after eight, and stood up and started putting things in his back pack. 

“Hey. I haven’t eaten all day. You want to go grab some dinner?” Sam asked him.

“Can’t. I’m meeting Donna at my place to help her study for a test between batters.”

“Between batters?”

They walked out of the office together and headed through the lobby. “It’s the playoffs. Admittedly, I’m not going to be much help.”

Sam laughed at him. “How is she?”

“Good. She wanted me to tell you she got Wolfe, Hamilton, and Erickson today.”

They passed through building security and headed out towards the gate. “Erickson?” Sam asked, surprised.

Josh nodded proudly. “Yes.”

“That’s great. I mean, wow, that’s really great. Erickson?”

Josh shrugged and smirked. “She’s amazing, what can I say?”

Sam chuckled at him. “She is amazing. How are things…you know, between the two of you?”

................

“Remember a few weeks ago, I asked you that hypothetical question?”

“About you having a thing for Donna?”

“It was hypothetical!”

“Sure it was.”

“Ok, it wasn’t. I’m gonna talk to her before we leave for Iowa tomorrow.”

“Yeah? What about Mandy?”

“I ended it.”

“When?”

“When she was here on Tuesday.”

“So, you and Donna?”

“I think she’s the one, Sam. I really do.”

.....................

“She’s the one, Sam.”

Sam slapped him on the back with a big grin on his face. “I didn’t know you guys were…”

Josh cut him off. “We’re not. Not yet. I just need to get through re-election and then I’m pulling out all the stops.”

“All the stops, huh?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. I’m not exactly sure what all the stops are, but I’m guessing flowers, candles and declarations will be involved.”

“Good. Just don’t wait too long. She’s a beautiful woman. She’s likely to get a better offer and…” he trailed off and Josh stopped walking. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

Josh looked at him and then away but didn’t say anything.

“I’m really sorry Josh. I didn’t mean… I didn’t...”

“It’s ok,” he said quietly, still focusing on the gate near the entrance.

“No it’s not. That was incredibly insensitive of me and I’m…”

Josh cut him off again. “It’s fine,” he said tight lipped. “It was just a joke.” He looked back at Sam and tried unsuccessfully to smile.

“Josh…”

“That’s not going to happen this time. She wouldn’t do that. She’s… she’s not going to do that.”

“I know,” Sam said quietly.

“She’s not.”

“I know.”

He looked at Sam and they stood there awkwardly. Finally, he said, “I gotta go.”

Sam tried to thing of something else to say, but finally nodded. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

*********** 

“Sam was extremely impressed that you got Erickson today,” he said during a commercial as they ate Chinese take out on the floor in front of his couch.

She looked up from the Family Law book on the coffee table in front of her. “Really?” 

Josh nodded. “He’s a bastard. He hates us.”

“Hmm…” she said, looking back down at the book. “He wasn’t hard to convince.”

“Well, you’re a very convincing person,” he said as he smiled, watching her flip a page in the book and then write something on a purple index card. 

..................

“What do you have there?”

“Index cards.”

“Why do you have index cards?”

“So I can convince you of my point.”

“You think pink and purple index cards will convince me of something?”

“I’ll be doing the convincing.”

“But you’ll be using pink and purple index cards to do it.”

“Shut up and let me get to the convincing.” 

..................

“Well, let’s hope I can be a convincing tomorrow with Tandy and Skinner.”

“Tandy?” he asked with large eyes and a squeaky voice.

“Yes.” She flipped another page and highlighted something in the book.

“Congressman Tandy?”

“And Congressman Skinner,” she said, writing something else down. The game came back on then and she pushed her book aside and grabbed an egg roll. “You’re guy’s 0 for 2 tonight. Is he gonna make a come back?”

He stared at her for a few seconds before looking up at the television. He didn’t know why her meeting with Congressman Tandy bothered him, but he wasn’t going to let it ruin their evening. “You’re one to talk,” he said, climbing up onto the couch. “Your guy hit soft to second and caused a double play.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at him with a big smile. “At least my guy’s making contact with the ball.”

He smiled back and she bit her bottom lip shyly. It was getting harder and harder not to kiss her, especially when she did things like that, but he was determined to wait three more weeks until the election was over so he could focus on her. “Little good it’s doing us.”

He grabbed her index cards then and quizzed her between batters until the Mets had finished losing to the Reds. When the game was over, he quizzed her some more until they were both yawning. “It’s one. You’re gonna be too tired to take your test.”

She yawned again, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re gonna be too tired to run the country.”

He smirked at her. “Yes, but I have a small amount of help when it comes to that.”

She shook her head and stood up to gather her things, pausing when her eye caught a picture on top of his entertainment center. “How are they?” 

He looked up at her from the couch and saw her looking at a picture of his parents. Slowly, he stood up and walked over to her. “Mom’s good,” he said quietly.

The room went silent and she turned and looked at him. “And your dad?” she asked as if she already knew the answer.

Josh took a deep breath. “He died during the first campaign.” 

She smiled softly and tilted her head to one side slightly. “The cancer?”

“Indirectly,” he said quietly. “He developed a blood clot from the radiation.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wrapping her hand around his and squeezing gently, then letting go.

He smiled and closed his eyes at the feel of her hand in his. “Thanks.”

Another minute of silence filled the room before she spoke again. “But your mom’s good, you said?”

He broke out of his reverie then and grinned at her. “Yeah. She lives in Alexandria now, actually. She’s like twenty minutes away.”

“Really?” Donna asked with a big grin on her face.

He nodded and grinned back at her. “Yeah. She came out and stayed the summer I…” he trailed off and the room went quiet once again. “She came out to stay with me one summer and liked it here, decided to sell the house in Connecticut and move to town.”

She looked back at the picture and stared at it. “I was worried about you,” she finally whispered. 

He could feel his heart beating faster. “You were?” he asked in a gravely voice.

“I was… studying for finals. I…” she paused and looked down at her hands, fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist. “I went to a church and sat there. I didn’t know what else to do.” She looked at him then and tried to smile. “I sent a card too. You probably got thousands.”

He chuckled. “About ten thousand, actually.”

“Ten thousand?” she asked surprised.

He nodded almost proudly. “The secret service screened them, but my mom read every one that got through.”

................

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“This one sounds like it’s from someone you know.”

“Who?”

“Someone named Donnatella.”

“What?”

“Donnatella Moss. The return address is Madison, Wisconsin. Her name sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Donna, you knew her as Donna. Can I …” 

“Donna from the campaign? That was sweet of her.”

..............

“She read every one? How sweet is that? Your mother is absolutely adorable, Josh,” she said with a sweet smile. He had to hold himself back from telling her she was adorable too.

He took her book bag and walked her to her car then, handing it to her and feeling his breath catch when their fingers mingled together as she took it from him. “I’ll call you when we get back from Charlotte.”

She gave him a huge smile and nodded, a blush on her cheeks. “Do good.”

********** 

*****He was sitting, propped up against the wall, holding his stomach and waiting for an ambulance to come. She stood over him. “You’re going to be ok, Josh. You’re going to be fine.” She said it over and over and he believed her. He could hear the ambulance then and she smiled at him and squeezed his hand, “Don’t leave me,” he whispered, and he could feel blood gathering in his mouth. She kneeled down next to him and cupped his face in her hands as the sirens got louder. “I have to,” she whispered. “I don’t want to, but you took her away from him. Now he’s taking me from you.” He grabbed her hand with his bloody one, crimson red against creamy white. “Don’t go,” he begged her, holding on as tight as he could. The sirens were so loud then. “I have to, Josh. I have to.” She stood up then, her hand sliding easily from his, and turned and walked towards John Tandy, waiting for her on the other side of the fence.*****

He woke up panting and gasping for air, white knuckles tightly clutching the pillow that had been covering his face. After several seconds, he started telling himself to take deep breaths; that was always the hardest part. He could hear his heart literally pounding in his chest, could feel sweat on his back and face, but he couldn’t see yet. Focusing always took the longest. He started blinking slowly until the dresser in front of his bed came into focus and his body stopped shaking enough so he could get up and get a glass of water. He walked slowly into the bathroom and filled a glass with lukewarm water, taking a drink and looking at himself in the mirror. “Don’t start this, damn it. Just don’t.”


	9. Running into the Past

He left Senator Kalmbach’s office even more tired than when he walked in. Just talking about the tobacco lawsuit was enough to give him a headache, but adding the campaign, the lack of sleep, the work he’d been doing on the college tax credit bill, and the few nightmares he was choosing to ignore, he felt like he could drop right there in the middle of the Capitol and take a nap while tourists shuffled around him. He stopped in to say a quick hello to Matt Skinner and was leaving to go back to the White House when he saw Sam and Donna walking down the hallway towards him. Suddenly he wasn’t tired at all.

“Hey,” he said eagerly as they approached him. He hadn’t seen her in a week. The re-election was pretty much a lock by then, but the President still insisted on keeping the last few stops on the campaign trail that had been scheduled before the debate had clinched their victory. Since he’d helped her study at his townhouse, he’d been to Charlotte, Oklahoma City, and Orlando; a week was too long.

“Hi.” She smiled back at him and he was amazed at how he nearly ached to be around her; to see her eyes and hear her laugh and to tease her. God, he loved to tease her. He wondered how he’d possibly gone four years without doing it. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. You must miss me pretty badly by now,” he teased.

“I’m pining away,” she said as she laughed at him. Sam just shook his head and grinned.

“I figured. What’s up?”

She raised her eyebrows and looked over at Sam. He nodded and she turned back to Josh. “We just got Miller, Michaels, Wallington, Ford, and Jent. That’s enough to pass,” she said with a grin so big it looked like it might jump right off her face.

................

“What’s that grin for?”

“You took my idea to Leo?”

“I did, indeed.”

“Really?”

“He said you did good.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, I told him he shouldn’t be surprised.” 

.................

“Of course you did, I’m not the least bit surprised,” he said, smiling not unlike her while reminding himself that taking her right here in the hallway wouldn’t look good. Instead, he reached over and squeezed her hand. She bit her lip and nodded shyly in response, and suddenly, the taking her right there in the hallway idea came back and he wondered not for the first time how he was going to make it two more weeks without making a move. Peeling his eyes from her, he turned to Sam. “Has Walkin scheduled the vote yet?”

“Friday afternoon,” he said, then gave Josh a wink and walked over to a few people he knew to say hello.

Josh looked back to Donna, and noticing her hand still in his, he squeezed lightly one more time and dropped it. “We should celebrate!” 

She tilted her head and looked at him sadly. “Class in a half hour.”

He nodded, biting back the disappointment. “What about Friday night after the vote? It’s not official till then anyway.”

Her eyes brightened and he wondered if he could get lost inside them. “You’ll be in town?”

He nodded. “I will indeed. Dinner? Say…. eight o’clock at Teatro Goldoni?”

Her eyes widened. They’d never been anyplace that nice together. “Teatro Goldoni?” 

He shrugged. “It’s a celebration. I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

She blushed and nodded. “Ok.” They said goodbye and he watched as she walked away. 

“Teatro Goldoni?” he heard from behind him a few seconds later. His head snapped over to Sam, who was smirking at him.

He shrugged. “It’s her first bill.”

“I worked on it too,” Sam said, not even trying to hide the fact that he was goading him. “Do I get to come?”

“Absolutely not,” Josh said smiling, as he started walking through the hall in the opposite direction Donna had gone. Sam walked along side him. “It’s not your first bill.”

“I don’t think you took me there when I got my first bill passed.”

“That’s a safe assumption.”

********** 

He parked his car down the block from her entrance and found that he had to literally hold himself back from running up the steps to her building. His feet slowed and his stomach clenched as he got three steps from the top and saw a piece of paper taped to the door. It was folded over, but when he got close he could see his name written on it in black ink.

..................

“How’d it go?”

“Huh?”

“How’d it go? You said you were gonna talk to her this morning before we left for Iowa.”

“I…”

“What’d she say? Do Toby and I have a new assistant?”

“She…”

“What?”

“This was here when I got in this morning.”

“What is it?”

....................

A note. He gripped hard onto the railing and stood paralyzed on the top step, staring at it as his breathing became shallow. The piece of paper went blurry as his head started spinning, and he bent over at the waist thinking he might be ill. 

Memories started flooding in then. Walking into the office with bagels for both of them, yelling out her name and finding it odd that he’d beaten her in, seeing the note... the note… and figuring it was to tell him she’d be late or that she went somewhere to pick up something for him, the way the room spun as he read it for the first time, reading it a second, third, fourth time, not wanting to believe it. The overwhelming urge to call her and tell her, beg her, to come back to him, to tell her he’d treat her better than the man she’d left him for, refusing to let anyone touch her desk for weeks because he had to believe she’d come back, and the very second he knew she wasn’t going to.

He told himself to breathe, deep slow breaths, and to focus, pick one thing and focus on it. He barely registered the sound of his cell phone, barely had the strength to pull it out of his pocket. He still stood just over an arm’s length from the note, still stared at it taped there, his future ruined once again, as he flipped the cell open and said his last name.

“Hey.”

His eyes opened wider and his breath caught in his throat. “Donna?” came out almost as a whisper.

“I just wanted to make sure you got my note,” she said in a tired and somewhat frantic voice.

‘Don’t leave me,’ he wanted to scream into the phone. “I just got here,” he choked out.

“Oh good, I’m not that late. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He shook his head then, confused, and looked back at the note taped to the door. Finally, he took the few steps to it, pulled it down and opened it.

'I left my phone at the office. I’ll be back in 20 minutes.'

He took a shaky breath and leaned against the railing as far back as he could looking up at the sky. He could feel his pulse and hear his heart beating, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to shout for joy or just sob. It was another several seconds before he could answer her. “Where are you?”

“I just left the office,” she said innocently, and he shook his head, grateful she couldn’t see him then. “Should I meet you there instead?”

“No.” He sat down on the top step and propped his elbows on his knees, his chin on one hand, running his other over his face and through his hair. Ten minutes to calm down would do him good. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just wait here for you.”

********** 

He didn’t feel well. He pushed his salad around on his plate and tried to keep up with the conversation, but for the first time in weeks it was quiet between them; too quiet. He knew she could tell, saw it in the way she looked at him, but when she’d asked, he’d said he was fine, and she’d dropped the subject.

He was angry. Angry with himself for jumping to conclusions, for letting those conclusions affect him the way they had. For allowing the nagging feeling that even though the note hadn’t taken her away for good, another one would follow someday. But mostly, he was angry with himself because deep down, in a place he hated to acknowledge, he was so completely angry with her, and that wasn’t fair.

“So, did you party hard today at work?” he asked in an overly joyous voice when neither one of them had said anything for several minutes.

She looked up from the soup she was eating and forced a smile. “There might have been champagne involved.”

“Getting toasted at work, I guess.” He tried to smirk but failed.

She laughed a little bit, still forced. “Like you aren’t getting wasted at all those state dinners.” 

“It’s a tough job.”

She shook her head at him and the table went silent again. She took another bite of her soup and he tried to eat some salad. Finally, she looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

He glanced up from his salad to her across the table, sitting quietly, wearing a stunning red dress with her hair falling like silk onto her shoulders. She looked sad. This was supposed to be her big night, but instead she looked sad and confused; and worried about him.

He took a deep breath and smiled. He’d do this, even if it killed him. “I’m at a great restaurant with a beautiful woman. How could I be anything but ok?” I didn’t sound convincing even to him; he knew she wouldn’t buy it.

“We can do this another time, Josh.” She smiled slightly at him but couldn’t make eye contact. 

“No. Absolutely not,” he said more sternly than he meant to. “This is your big night.” 

She looked around at other tables and said quietly, “I’d rather have my big night when you want to have it with me.”

“Donna, I’m…”

“I know you’re really busy right now. We should just postpone,” she said, looking at him this time with a brave face he knew was fake.

He put his napkin down and looked at the table for several seconds. He was ruining her night. He was so proud of her, for what she’d done and what she’d become, and he was ruining it because of a note. A note she left more than four years before. He glanced over at the small bar attached to the restaurant and saw two couples dancing quietly inside. Steeling himself up for it, he turned back to her and said, “I had a bad day. Let’s make it better.” 

“How?” she asked him quietly.

..................

“It’s a fundraiser, Donna. You’re supposed to be having fun.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“You’re not dancing.”

“I’ve only been here three days. I don’t know anyone.”

“You know me.”

“Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Cause you’re not dancing with me.”

“What?”

“Come dance with me.”

..................

He nodded towards the bar. “Dance with me.”

Her eyes followed his nod and a large smile lit her face when she saw the few people dancing. She looked back to where he was sitting, but by then he was behind her chair. She nodded and he pulled it out for her and led her into the bar. 

When they got to the bar, he took her hand in his and started dancing slowly to Tony Bennett. She looked at him shyly, then looked past his shoulder and focused on the wall behind him. He could feel his heart pounding as he wrapped his arm further around her waist and pulled her closer. She looked at him then, a little startled, and he smiled his first real smile of the night. Then he turned his head so their cheeks were touching lightly. Her hair smelled like some sort of fruit he couldn’t place, her dress slid through the fingers that held her possessively against his body, and her warm breath dancing across his neck made him shiver. She sighed and the rise and fall of her chest against his felt like nothing short of heaven, and just like that he was lost again. But this time he was glad. “See,” he whispered as they moved, his fingers engaged in their own dance with hers. “This is much better.”


	10. Running into the Past

The air changed nearly immediately and he was grateful for it as they barely moved to the music. It had taken no time at all to relax into her, and once he had, he’d felt her relax as well. He held her hand out to the side for a few minutes, but by the time the song had changed to Bryan Adams, he’d pulled them in to rest close to their bodies. The hand on her waist moved ever so slightly up to her bare back where his thumb moved slowly back and forth, and her fingers toyed with the curls in his hair he always thought he’d been cursed with. He was beginning to rethink that.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, but it wasn’t the awkward silence that had followed them from the steps of her apartment into the restaurant. Instead, it was easy and natural and he found himself picturing them lying in bed reading, him on his back wearing boxers shorts, her perpendicular to him with her head on his stomach wearing one of his t-shirts. It was, he thought, the perfect picture.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” she whispered into his ear, her breath dancing across his skin.

He strengthened his hold on her, pulling her even closer to him and whispered back, “It’s not bad anymore.” He could feel her smile against his cheek and then she laid her head on his shoulder. Neither said anything else.

They continued dancing until their server came into the bar and motioned to him that their food had been delivered. Reluctantly, he pulled back from Donna and nodded towards the restaurant. She smiled and they made their way into the dining room, his hand still on her back.

He wondered again how it was she affected him so much. When he’d first seen her in July, he’d tried so hard to stay distant, but watching her across the table as she ate her risotto and smiled at him with those ocean blue eyes, he was so thankful he’d failed. That talks of the Mets and Watermelon had sucked him in and captured him again.

And when he took her home that night, the sight of the door didn’t bother him. But standing there while she dug her keys out of her purse made his stomach flutter just a little bit and when she had unlocked the door and turned to say goodbye to him he quietly and without fanfare leaned in and kissed her softly.

He pulled back and looked at her closed eyes and the smallest of smiles on her face. She opened them and looked at him, the smile getting bigger, and he thought it matched the one that he couldn’t quite control on his own face. “I meant to wait on that,” he said softly.

She looked at him curiously. “Why?”

He leaned on the building then, hands in his pockets, dimples out, and shrugged just a little while grinning at her. “I’ve got a busy ten days ahead of me. I didn’t want … I don’t know.” 

She wiped lipstick from his mouth. “Well I’ve got midterms coming up. I might be pretty busy.”

His smile got bigger and he kissed her thumb as it passed over his lips. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “So I hope you won’t be offended if I can’t spend too much time with you for the next week or so.”

He shook his head and his smile widened. “No. Not at all. I might have to kiss you again once more before I leave though.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I’m ok with that.” 

He leaned in and watched as she closed her eyes, waiting for him. She was breathtaking and he skimmed his fingers over her mouth before closing his own eyes and kissing her.

That time he let his lips linger on hers. He’d thought about kissing her for years, and standing there, he tried to memorize every detail of it. Her lips, soft and warm and slightly wet from their first kiss, with a hint of wine on them. Her fingernails tracing patterns up and down his forearm as he held her with one hand at her waist. Her skin, like silk under the fingers on her face, her shiver when they danced across to her neck. The sound of her sigh, so quiet and beautiful, meant only for him. It was infinitely better than any dream or fantasy he’d had.

He nearly ached with desire to taste her tongue, her collarbone, her earlobe, but he ended the kiss, laying smaller ones on the corners of her mouth before completely pulling back and looking at her again. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing quickened. 

He pulled his hand from her waist and tangled his fingers with hers as he backed away. “I’ll call you,” he said as their arms stretched out, holding their connection as long as possible. When he had to let go, he almost hopped down the steps, then turned around and faced her as he walked backwards down the sidewalk towards his car, grinning at the way she smiled brilliantly at him.

********** 

The following Wednesday morning, a tapping sound woke him. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, groaning, before looking around to see that he was in Toby’s office. He sat there a few more seconds before looking to his right and seeing Sam standing outside the office looking at him.

He got off the couch and went to the door. “What time is it?”

“Almost six. You slept here?”

.................

“You slept here?”

“I told you I would. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You slept on the floor?”

“Yes. It was like… camping.”

“Get your things ready, we’re going to Buffalo today.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going this time.”

“We are now. Tell Margaret we need two more rooms at the hotel.”

“Josh…”

“And pack enough for all week. We’re going to Lansing after Buffalo. Tell her to request adjoining rooms; we’re going to be working late.”

.................

“I was working late. It was easier than going home.”

Sam nodded. “You slept here Sunday night and last night too. What’s going on?”

Josh turned around and grabbed some files he was reading at around two o’clock, before falling asleep on Toby’s couch. “I’m trying to get the President re-elected,” he said dismissively as he walked towards his office.

Sam followed him. “Me too. I still manage to get home and shower occasionally. What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you get in a fight with Donna?”

He kept walking but turned his head towards Sam, looking at him strangely. “No.”

“Josh…”

He sighed. “I’m just not sleeping all that well, so I thought I might as well get some work done.” He went into his office then as Sam continued following him. Josh closed the door behind them and looked on the hook he’d been keeping a few clean outfits on. “Uh oh,” he said opening the door again.

“What?” Sam asked, sitting down.

“I’m out of clean clothes.”

“It’s so bad you’re keeping clothes here?” Josh ignored him and grabbed two bottles of orange juice from his refrigerator, tossing one to Sam before sitting down. “And food?” 

“It’s not a big deal.”

Sam looked at him and opened the juice. “You weren’t sleeping all that great in September and…”

Josh cut him off. “I’m fine,” he said in a tone that said he didn’t want to discuss it.

“Nightmares?”

Josh looked at him while he took a drink of his juice, considering lying to him. Finally, he sat the bottle on the desk and nodded. “A few.”

“Do you need to call Dr. Miller?”

“No. I just need to get past this…thing I have that she’s gonna leave again. When my brain comes to terms with it, everything will be great.” Sam looked at him skeptically. “Really,” he said, grinning. “Amazingly great.”

Sam studied Josh for a minute. “Maybe you should talk to her about it,” he offered after the stretch of silence.

“And say what? ‘When you quit your job four years ago, you broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. Do you plan on doing that again?’ Cause I’ve only kissed her once, Sam. Ok twice, but still, that might scare her off.”

“You don’t know that Josh. Wait...” He sat up straighter and looked at him. “You kissed her? I mean, kissed her kissed her. Like on the lips?”

Josh’s eyes widened. “Yes on the lips. Where do you think I’d kiss her, the elbow?”

“I don’t know, the cheek maybe.”

Josh shook his head and grinned smugly at his friend, thankful the conversation had turned from his lack of sleep. “Nope. Skipped that and went straight for the lips.”

“And…” Sam said, gesturing for him to continue.

Josh stared at him a second. What, were they fifteen year-old girls? “The planets realigned themselves. What do you want me to say?”

Sam stood up and started pacing. “You don’t have to get snippy. You liked it?”

“I’ve been waiting for it for four years, of course I liked it,” Josh answered before taking another drink of his juice.

“But I mean…” he stopped walking and looked at Josh. “Did it live up to the hype?”

He smirked. “The hype?”

“You know what I mean.”

He nodded and thought for a few seconds. “It was everything and more. It was… perfect.”

Sam smiled at him then. “So, did you…”

“No details, Sam.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You’re a woman.”

“Who’s a woman?” April asked, popping her head inside.

Josh looked at her, happy for yet another distraction. “Sam is. I need a clean shirt.”

“Ok…” she said, uninterested.

He gestured to the door. “I’m out.”

She looked at him like he was crazy. “Yeah…”

“April,” he whined.

“Don’t whine at me. I’m your assistant, not your mother.”

......................

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Were you just whining?”

“No.”

“Yes you were.”

“I was not.”

“Ok.”

“Donna…”

“Right there, that was whining.”

“Donna, I need the polling data.”

“You’re like a child.”

“Please…”

“Do you really think whining is going to work with me?”

“Donna, I need it.”

“God help me, it is working. I’ll see what I can do.”

...................

“The whining doesn’t work with me, Josh. You took a clean shirt off that door yesterday. Why didn’t it occur to you to bring more in?”

“I hate you.”

“You’re no picnic yourself,” April said before turning around and walking away.

“So,” Sam asked once she was gone. “Is she gonna get you a shirt?”

Josh shook his head. “Nope.”


	11. Running into the Past

“April!”

“Stop shouting!”

“I need the…” he stormed out of his office and into the bullpen. “I need the report!” he said no quieter than before.

April whipped around and stared at him. “And I’m working on getting it for you,” she said quietly through gritted teeth.

“From where? China?”

“Go away!” she shouted back at him.

“Do your job!”

“It’s not my job to listen to you scream like a lunatic! They’re sending it over; you’re going to have to wait!”

He hit the glass on her partition and shouted, “Incompetence!” before going into his office and slamming the door.

He paced his office for over a minute, cursing and mumbling to himself, before sitting heavily in his chair, putting his elbows on his desk and rubbing his eyes. He needed an assistant who did her job and didn’t give him shit. He wasn’t putting up with her crap for another four years.

Then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. April wasn’t the problem. What he really needed was sleep. Sleep in a bed without nightmares, without constantly waking up, without staring at the ceiling. It was getting worse, whatever it was he was going through, but he told himself again that he just needed to get through the next two days. After the election, things would calm down. He’d take a day or two off work, sleep in and read the sports page. Take his mom to a movie. Maybe he’d go away for a long weekend. He just needed to relax. That’s all it was.

He sighed and sat up, he’d have to apologize to April at some point, but he doubted he had the strength, either physically or mentally, to do it right then. Instead, he opened a file on the trade agreement and tried to focus on the words. 

A few minutes later Sam knocked on his door and without waiting for a reply, walked in and closed it behind him. He held out a report towards Josh. “April asked me to give this to you. Something about seeing you and killing you.”

Josh looked up wearily and took the report from him. He honestly didn’t remember needing it, and as he looked at the title, “FDA: April 2001 New and Generic Drug Approvals,” he wondered if unconsciously he’d asked for it just so he’d have someone to scream at. “I might have yelled a little bit.”

Sam took a few steps back and leaned against the wall. “I might have heard it from my office.”

“Ahh…”

“Josh…”

“Don’t, Sam,” he said, shaking his head and putting the file down on his desk.

“Don’t what?”

He ran his hand through his hair and over his face before looking back up at Sam. “Don't talk to me in that ‘Josh is losing it’ tone of voice.”

“I’m not using any tone, but Josh, this is all starting to look familiar.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not sleeping, you’re not eating, you’re screaming at your assistants and anyone else who dares cross your path, you’re hitting things, you pounced on Roberts yesterday when you were supposed to be courting his vote, you…

“You’re not my shrink, Sam,” he said, cutting him off.

“No I’m not. Why don’t you pay yours a visit?”

Josh stared at him. He knew he was right, but couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t be having a set back, because if he was, it would be due at least in part to the fact that Donna was in his life again. And that was something he absolutely refused to change.

They continued staring at each other, at an impasse, until the beeping intercom interrupted the staring contest they were engaged in. He looked at the blinking button in shock at its use and hit it. “Yeah?”

“Donna Moss, line three,” April said in a completely professional and cold tone. “Should I take a message?”

His sighed and hung his head. “No, I’ll take it.” He paused. “Thank you, April.” 

She hung up without answering and he scribbled, “flowers/April” on a post-it note before looking up at Sam. “I need to take this.” 

“I’m not trying to be an ass, Josh. People are starting to notice.”

Josh looked at him for a few seconds before nodding reluctantly at him. “And they nominated you?”

Sam smiled. “I drew the short straw. I’ll let you…” he nodded towards the phone.

“I’ll think about it. Shut the door on your way out, would you?” He looked back at the phone, but didn’t pick it up until he heard his office door close quietly behind Sam. Finally, he took a deep breath and answered. “Hey.”

“I haven’t seen you in eight days,” she said matter-of-factly instead of hello.

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Believe me, I know.”

“I’ve decided I don’t care for it.”

He felt a smile tug at his lips. “I don’t care for it much myself,” he said. “We’re going to have to rectify the situation.”

“Yeah?” she asked doubtfully. “How do you propose we do that? You’re a tad bit busy for two more days.”

“I’ll never make it two more days. I’m going through withdrawal. April and Sam are about to kill me.”

“Why?”

He winced, even though she couldn’t see him. “I might be a bit on the grumpy side.”

“Grumpy, huh?” she said, teasing him. “I am pretty hard to live without.”

..............

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“My office. It… exists.”

“It’s always existed. It was just difficult to find under the massive piles of crap.”

“That explains the smell.”

“No, the molding Chinese take-out containers explain the smell. How did you ever live without me?”

“I have no idea.”

..............

“You have no idea.”

“So, how do you propose we rectify the situation?”

“Well,” he said as he leaned forward in his chair again, looking at the schedule he’d argued with April about earlier. “What if I mysteriously disappeared tonight, say around… seven, only to reappear around 9:30?”

“And your location during this mysterious absence?”

“Someplace where I won’t run into anyone from congress, the press, my staff, or Ritchie’s staff.” He sighed, doubting that place existed.

“I think I know a place just like that,” she said with a smile in her voice.

He chuckled. “You do?”

“I do indeed. There’s a townhouse on Olive Street NW. It’s nothing fancy, a red paisley couch and lots of plants, but they’re serving a home-cooked dinner tonight.”

His eyes widened at the thought of her cooking for him and his mouth watered at the thought of food on plates. “Home-cooked?” 

“I believe tonight’s menu is chicken breast stuffed with feta cheese, steamed broccoli, and a salad with a light vinaigrette dressing.”

“That sounds… amazing.”

“Yeah?” she asked in a way that made him picture her smiling coyly at him. “Should I make you a reservation?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. See you tonight. And be nice to Sam and April.”

“Yes ma’am.”

********** 

Leaving at seven turned into leaving at 7:15 and being back at 9:30 turned into being back at 9:15 for a conference call with the president of Russia, but he didn’t care. He sped through the streets of Georgetown as if on some sort of mission, stopping at the Safeway near her townhouse and buying lilies for her and white roses for April.

.............

“You’re fighting with Mandy again?”

“Always. How did you know?”

“You’re holding roses.”

“Maybe they’re for you.”

“I like lilies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

..............

He bounded up the steps of her building two at a time, breathing a small sigh of relief that there was no note taped to the door for him, and rang the buzzer. “Come on up,” she said a few seconds later just as he heard the door buzz. He swung it open with one hand and was already knocking on her door before he heard it click shut again.

She opened the door wearing a pair of shorts and a Bartlet for America t-shirt, with her hair in a pony tail and no make-up on. He couldn’t help staring at her. 

.............

“Where’d you get the Bartlet for America shirt?”

“I borrowed it from your suitcase.”

“You stole it from me?”

“I told you, I only steal food. I borrowed it.”

“From my suitcase…”

“Yes.”

“Will I ever get it back?”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath if I were you. Anyway, it looks cuter on me.”

...............

“Cute shirt,” he said smiling, taking her in.

She smiled brilliantly at him, making him feel like the only man in the world. “Thanks, come in.” She held the door open and he walked in, still looking at her. He couldn’t believe how young and fresh and innocent she looked. It was as if he’d just walked in on her in Manchester talking on his phone.

“I brought flowers,” he said dumbly, still staring at her, the flowers hanging from one hand at his side.

She laughed a little at him. “They look… nice.”

Her laugh caught his attention and he broke out of his little reverie and looked at her to see her looking down at the flowers in his hand. “Oh,” he said, holding them up for her to take. “Here.”

Her mouth dropped open and her smile widened, and he smiled back, grateful he’d remembered her flower preference. “Wow,” she said quietly, reaching out to take them from him and brushing his fingers with hers. His breath caught a little, and instead of letting her take the flowers, he intertwined his fingers with hers and stepped in closer to her, kissing her lightly.

He pulled back slightly from the kiss, but was still so close that he could feel her breathing on his lips. “I was hoping you were going to do that again,” she whispered. 

Her words surprised him, but when he recovered a second later, he kissed her again, harder and deeper, his tongue swiping her lower lip, causing them both to moan. She leaned into him and he could feel her fingers in his hair as both of her arms came around his neck. She opened her mouth and he wasted no time in finding her tongue with his own as he dropped whatever was in his hand, his keys, a bomb, he had no idea, and put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him as he leaned back against the door.

His senses were on overload. His other hand was in her hair, pulling the ponytail out, running his fingers through the soft fine silk as soon as the scrunchie was out of the way. She scratched lightly at his scalp with her fingernails and he found himself wondering of all things, what color they were painted. She sucked at his lower lip and he groaned again, pulling his thoughts back to her mouth. Their tongues began dancing once more and it made perfect sense to him that they would be amazing at this; their tongues had always danced with each other. He could taste a hint of lemon in her mouth and wondered if she’d tested the chicken she’d promised him.

The hand on her back was slowly moving up and down and on an upwards swipe, took part of her shirt with it. When his hand hit bare back, she made what sounded like a whimper to him and then his mind was on the sounds she would make in bed. He wondered if she would scream, moan, whisper, pant… wondered what his name would sound like on her lips as she climaxed, wondered what her collarbone would taste like as he did.

She pulled back from his mouth then, grasping for air, and he buried his face in her neck, kissing and licking anything he could reach with the t-shirt in the way. When he took her earlobe in his mouth and sucked on it, she gasped his name and his knees nearly buckled. He sucked on it for a few more seconds, then kissed her ear, her jaw, and finally her lips softly as he pulled back slightly and looked at her flushed face, heaving chest, and wet swollen lips. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

She smiled and pulled back from his body, giving him room to move away from the door. He heard her laugh and followed her gaze to the flowers in a heap on her living room floor. “Oops,” he mumbled, and she leaned in and kissed him again.

“I’ll get a vase,” she said as she pulled away. His mouth followed hers and he kissed her one more time before she was out of his grasp, bending over and picking up the lilies.

He followed her into the kitchen and watched from the entranceway as she put the flowers in a vase, then he took them from her with a quick peck on the lips and put them on the dining room table. “Hungry?” she asked as she took the lid off the pot with the broccoli, steam surrounding her face.

“Starving,” he said, although he gladly would’ve given up food to kiss her some more.

“Good,” she said as she started putting food on two plates next to the stove. He watched as she carefully lifted the chicken out of a skillet, her tongue snaking out as she concentrated on not losing any of the melted feta cheese bulging out the side. “This was my grandmother’s recipe. It’s one of my favorites.”

“It looks incredible,” he said sincerely, pouring them each a glass of wine from the bottle on the counter and imagining them doing this together night after night for years to come.

She picked up the plates once she’d filled them and he followed her with the wine into the dining room. She put the plates on the table and started to sit down as Josh handed her a glass of wine. Their fingers brushed again on the glass and he whispered, “I’m gonna have to kiss you again now.”

She smiled at him. “Let’s try not to drop anything this time.”

********** 

After dinner, they took the dishes into the kitchen and she washed them while he dried and helplessly tried putting them away as she laughed at him. She offered to let him wash, but he told her he was enjoying the fact that he could lean over and kiss her neck or cheek anytime he wanted to without her being able to fight him off because her hands were in dishwater. She shook her head but smiled, telling him dish water hands wouldn’t stop her from fighting if she wanted to, which she didn’t, and he smirked at her, which caused her to lean over and kiss him.

There was dish soap in his hair and on his tie when her cell phone rang a few minutes later. “My niece had her first piano recital tonight. She promised to call me with details. I should get that,” she mumbled against his lips.

He kissed her on the forehead and watched her walk into the living room while wiping her hands on a towel. She pulled her cell out of her purse and looked at the call screen. He watched her and smiled, shaking his head and thinking that things were damn near perfect. Then she answered the phone.

“Michael, hi.”


	12. Running into the Past

His name played in Josh’s eardrums like an echo. He could hear other sounds too, water dripping from the sink he was frozen in place next to, someone trying and failing to start a car outside, the sound of her warm, kind voice in the phone, his own breathing, heavy and deep as he tried not to panic. But the echo was the loudest. Michael. Michael. Michael.

“Busy but good, you?”

It could be any Michael, he told himself over and over as the room went fuzzy. He knew he was facing her, staring at her, but he couldn’t really see her anymore. The only thing in focus was the cell phone pressed to her ear. He continued with the breathing he’d practiced numerous times over the years. It would work. It had to work.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

He knew he should turn away from her, give her some privacy, but his feet seemed to be glued to the floor where he stood. He wondered if a smile was still plastered to his face or if he looked as pale as he felt. It could be any Michael, he told himself again as he concentrated on his breathing. He’d panicked when he’d seen the note on the door and it was nothing. It would be nothing again, as long as he didn’t panic. 

.............

He came here, Josh. He drove here to get me, to ask for another chance. I ignored his calls so he came here and I know you think he’s scum, but we were together for years, Josh. Three years. I owe it to both of us to give this another chance.

.................

“Next week.”

He felt dizzy. It wasn’t working; the breathing, the rational thinking, none of it. He was panicking. He wondered where his suit jacket was. He’d taken it off sometime after the kissing and before the eating, but he thought maybe he should put it on and leave. Leave her to the phone call with whomever it was that happened to have the same name as the man she left him for. He should leave before he had some sort of… whatever it was he’d been having lately … in front of her. He wasn’t thinking clearly, but he did know he didn’t want her to see him like that.

“I’ll be home in three weeks, let’s talk about it then.”

...................

“She left me.”

“She left the campaign.”

“Bullshit!”

“Don’t do this to yourself, Josh.”

“I was going to…”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I was going to! I was.”

“I know. But she didn’t, Josh. She had no idea. She left the campaign to give her boyfriend another chance. She didn’t leave you.”

“Then why does it hurt so much?”

...................

His chest was killing him. It felt like someone was sitting on him as he continued trying to take deep breaths. He felt something on his arm and he flinched. It was her; her hand, soft and secure. He wanted to beg her to save him, to make it better, but how could she when she was the reason it hurt so much.

“You know, I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just kept going with the dishes,” she said laughing.

He heard her talking, told himself to focus, to move his head. Slowly, he turned and looked at her. “What?”

She smiled at him and as he’d found several times over the last three and half months, it became easier to breathe. “Never mind, it was a joke,” she said. He nodded, focusing on the smile that captured him so easily. Silently begging it to make everything ok. “How ‘bout you wash and I dry now so I can sneak kisses of your neck?” she said softly, leaning in and kissing him.

The second her lips touched his, his head jerked back, taking his entire body with it. He stumbled against the counter and stared at her with huge eyes. Still, he said nothing.

“Are you ok?” she asked him, worry and confusion beginning to cloud her beautiful face. 

“Don’t touch me,” he said hoarsely, the dry sound of his voice surprising him.

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “What?”

“Don’t,” he said again, trying to back away from her but having no where to go with the counter digging into his back. “Touch me.”

“Ok,” she said, taking a slow step backwards. “Josh, what’s wrong?”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked in a voice that sounded dead to him.

“Doing what?”

“Touching me? Pretending you…” he trailed off, looking over her shoulder at a Children’s Rights Council magnet on the refrigerator behind her as his breathing became labored again.

“What?” she asked him, confused.

He brought his gaze back to her and choked out his greatest fear. “Why are you leaving me again?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard you Donna,” he said quietly, her name nothing more than a breath on his lips. “I heard you tell him you’d be home in three weeks. I heard you say it. Why are you leaving me again for him?”

“Josh, I’m not…”

“Yes you are,” he yelled, cutting her off. “You’re leaving again! For him! For that bastard! Why?” he demanded before looking her in the eyes and pleading quietly. “Why?”

She looked away and then back at him, staring for several seconds before replying softly. “He’s not a bastard, Josh.”

“Don’t!” he said with a voice of steel. “Don’t defend him to me.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” she said, shaking her head. 

“I know he used you. I know he cheated on you.”

Her eyes went wide again and she tilted her head, looking at him with a sad fragile smile. “No he didn’t,” she whispered.

“Yes he did,” he insisted. Of course he did. He cheated on her and dumped her after he used her to pay for his education. Of course that’s how it happened. He’d gone over it a million times in his head as he wondered how anyone could do that to her. It all hinged on that. On the fact that he would’ve been better to her, would’ve loved her and cherished her more than the parasite she’d gone back to. He had to have cheated on her.

“No, Josh. He didn’t cheat on me. We had a fight, a string of them actually, and broke up.” 

He was quiet then, staring disbelievingly at her. That couldn’t have been it. He had to have cheated on her. Josh had to be better than him. Had to be.

“Josh,” she said softly, taking a step closer to him. “Why is this coming up now? Why are you bringing up the past? Because he called? I’ll tell you what we talked about, it’s not a secret.”

“I know what you talked about,” he said in a stiff tone with a stiff jaw. “You talked about the fact that you’re leaving me in three weeks.”

“No,” she said in a strong, almost demanding voice. She reached out hesitantly to touch his chest and he jerked away again, sliding out from between her and the counter and walking to the other side of the island in the kitchen, using it to separate them. 

“Yes,” he said, his voice cold and distant. “Yes.”

“I’m not…”

He cut her off again. “Will you be back Donna? Someday, just when I think I’m going to be able to live a normal life without you, will you come back to pull me in again? With your smile and your eyes and that way you have of…” he stopped, his voice choking on his words. Several seconds passed as thick silence filled the room. “I’m so pathetic,” he said, laughing harshly at himself. “I almost hope you do.”

“Josh, I don’t understand…”

“Of course you don’t understand,” he spit out. “How could you? How could you know what it’s like to… to walk into your office one day and find that note? To have everything change in seconds. To not understand what…” He stopped then and looked down at his feet. Finally he whispered. “What I did to make you leave.”

She was quiet then and he heard her moving, but didn’t know where she was going until he felt her hands on his cheeks and smelled her shampoo. She tilted his face up to hers. “You didn’t do anything. You were amazing. Amazing,” she whispered.

He looked up at her, tears brimming in her eyes, and God help him, he hated himself for doing that to her. For yelling at her and accusing her of things and for hurting her.

.......................

“Why do you think you did those things to your friends?”

“What things?”

“You told Leo to go to hell. You fired your assistants. You hit one of your friends.”

“I apologized.”

“Yes, but why did you do it in the first place.”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking, I guess.”

“We’re you trying to hurt them?”

“What? Absolutely not!”

“Not just a little? Maybe if someone else was hurting, you’d hurt less?”

“No.”

“Did you hurt less when you hurt them?”

“No.”

“How did it feel?”

“It made me feel like a monster.”

.................

He couldn’t, wouldn’t hurt her. He turned his head, pulling away from her hands, and took a step backwards. “I have to leave,” he said abruptly, turning and looking through the entryway into the living room. He had to get away from her, where he wouldn’t hurt her anymore. 

“Josh, don’t. Please don’t,” she asked him quietly, wrapping her hand around his arm lightly.

He pulled away and walked into the living room, looking for anything that looked like his, no longer sure of what he might have brought with him. “I have to.” 

“Why? Why do you have to?” she pleaded, following him. “Because I did? Because I left? ” 

He turned around quickly and looked at her, tears falling down her face. “No,” he said adamantly, reaching his hand up, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “No. No, that’s not why,” he said quieter and softer that time. 

“Then why?”

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead before pulling back and looking at her tear stricken face. “Because you’re crying and I did that to you and I won’t keep doing it.”

She gripped onto his forearm so he couldn’t take his hand away. “They’re just tears Josh. They don’t matter. Let’s fix this. We’re building something wonderful here. I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you, not again.”

He shook his head. “I can’t stay here and hurt you.”

“It’ll hurt more if you leave,” she whispered, crying harder.

“I’ll be back.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to. I have to go and fix this… I have to go. I know you don’t understand and I promise I’ll explain it. I promise. But I have to go.”

She turned her head and kissed his palm, still sitting softly on her cheek. “Please don’t.”

He pulled her face to his then, kissing her very gently as he continued wiping her tears away with his thumb. She put her arms around his neck, clinging to him with what felt like every ounce of energy she had, trying to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back and brought his hands behind his head to hers, pulling them down and away from him. “I’ll be back,” he whispered again, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing her knuckles before dropping them, picking up his jacket and leaving.

He’d driven one block before pulling over to the side of the road and picking up his cell phone. He scrolled down and hit talk.

“Hello?”

“I need to see you as soon as possible."


	13. Running into the Past

By Friday, he felt like a science experiment. Four sessions with Dr. Miller in five days made him feel raw, angry, scared, hurt, hopeful and a thousand other emotions he couldn’t quite put into words. 

If nothing else, he was sleeping better. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the therapy or the fact that Election Day had passed with them on the winning side, he wasn’t even sure if the nightmares had stopped or if he was just so exhausted that he was sleeping through them, but by the fourth morning, he actually felt refreshed when his alarm clock went off.

It had been six days since he’d walked out of her apartment. She’d left him one message each day, ranging from apologetic to confused to upbeat and normal as if nothing had happened to pleading with him to call her, just to let her know he was ok. After that one, he’d called when he knew she’d be in class and left her a message telling her he was fine but that he needed more time and that it wasn’t her fault and to please be patient with him. He sent lilies to her office that afternoon.

But by Friday he was restless. He missed her smell and her eyes and every other single thing about her, and he wondered not for the first time how long she’d wait for him to fix the screw-up that was his life before moving on and finding someone without his obvious issues. He needed to feel normal, like he wasn’t some kind of freak who couldn’t control his emotions. Therapy was working, but it wasn’t an overnight fix and he needed to relax and forget it, just for a little while. So when CJ had put together an impromptu goodbye get together for Sam, he’d agreed to go.

“No,” CJ said to Sam. “That bet was for fifty dollars. And you never paid me.”

Sam looked at her. “That’s because I won!” he said incredulously. “I’m waiting for my fifty dollars!”

“She owes me thousands,” Toby said as though he didn’t care, taking a drink of scotch. “You’ll never see a penny.”

“He’s rich,” CJ said to Toby. “He doesn’t need my money.”

Josh sat across from Sam and next to CJ in a booth near the back of the small, quiet bar they’d chosen for just that reason in Georgetown. Toby was sitting next to Sam, and he was glad it was just the four of them. Sam was probably going to lose the election he’d accidentally agreed to run in, but for some reason it still felt like goodbye. He took a swig of his beer and looked across at him; someone else he loved was leaving. 

“Yes. You made fun of her shoes or something,” CJ said, pulling him back to the conversation.

“No,” he said. “That was Leo.”

“Leo made fun of Karen Cahill’s shoes?”

Josh nodded. “It became a thing. We had to send Jason to schmooze with her.”

CJ looked at him, tilting her head. “I don’t remember any of this.” Then her focus shifted. “Hey, don’t I know that person?” she asked, nodding towards the door.

“That’s Donna Moss,” Toby said, looking behind him to where she was motioning. 

Josh’s eyes went huge and he whipped his head up from the beer bottle label he’d been toying with. She was walking in the door while unbuttoning a leather jacket and talking to two women and a man. He couldn’t help the quickened beating of his heart or the smile that took over his face when she made a quirky face and one of the women laughed at her. 

...................

“Why did you wait until it got this bad to call?”

“I was hoping she could fix me.”

“But you know there’s no fix for PTSD. Is that a fair request?”

“No, but when she looks at me, when she laughs, when she says my name … I don’t know. When I’m with her, everything else seems to disappear.”

“Did the past four years disappear?”

...................

“She looks great,” CJ said. “Wow. Four years did wonders for her.”

She turned and made eye contact with him then. He could see the surprise on her face and was pretty sure it matched the look on his. It took her a second, but she smiled hesitantly at him and bit her bottom lip, a sight which always made her look innocent and sexy as hell at the same time. He smiled back; a slight almost apologetic smile and hers widened a bit. Then she turned to one of the women she was with, said something to her and handed her the jacket.

“She’s coming over here,” Sam said quietly.

Josh started pushing the little pieces of paper he’d peeled off his beer towards CJ’s spot while CJ laughed at him. “I’m not blind, Sam,” he spit out. Then he took a deep breath and tore his eyes off Donna and looked at him. “Sorry.”

Toby coughed. “Did you just apologize for being short with Sam?”

Josh glared at him before locking eyes with Donna again. “It’s something new I’m working on.” 

He debated whether or not he should stand up, hug her, kiss her, drop to one knee and beg forgiveness, turn and run like hell… He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk to her again, wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go if he did, but ready or not, there she was.

..................

“When can I see her again?”

“When do you want to see her again?”

“I wanted to see her again thirty seconds after I left.”

“Ok… When do you think you should see her again?”

“When I’m cured, but I can’t wait that long.”

................

It was as if she was walking in slow motion, getting almost further away with each step towards him, and suddenly it was taking too long. He stood up and wiped his sweating palms on his jeans, still not sure if he wanted to pull her close or run away from her.

“Hi,” she said quietly when she got to the table, an uncertain smile still on her face.

“Hey,” he said in a matched tone, suddenly feeling light headed. “How are you?”

She looked briefly down then shrugged, breaking his heart. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“I’m glad you liked them.” It got quiet then for what felt like an eternity until Sam kicked his leg and he jerked his head back to the table where he, CJ, and Toby were staring at him expectantly. “Oh, sorry,” he said quickly. “Donna, you know Sam and Toby. Do you remember CJ Cregg?”

She looked at him for another second before turning to look at the table. “Yes, it’s nice to see you again CJ.”

CJ smiled and reached a hand towards her. “You too. How have you been?”

Donna shook her hand and brought hers down to her side. “Good, thanks.”

“She works for the Children’s Rights Council,” Toby said before smiling up at Donna. “So she’s not going to come work for me.” 

Donna smiled at him, thankful for the humor. “Yes, unfortunately it isn’t going to work out.”

There was another awkward pause while Josh stood next to her but kept his gaze on the table. “Sit down, have a drink with us,” CJ finally said to her. “Sam here’s leaving us tomorrow to run for congress. Politics,” she scuffed in a mock tone. “I don’t know why anyone would get involved in it.”

“Umm...” she glanced at Josh but he didn’t make eye contact. “I better get back...” she motioned towards nothing. 

He looked at her then, hoping he didn’t look as crestfallen as he felt. “Yeah,” he said, trying to manage a smile. “They’re probably waiting on you.”

She kept looking at him, silence growing thick again. Finally, she looked back at Toby, Sam and CJ. “It was nice seeing all of you. Good luck Sam.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back and turned to Josh, talking quietly. “I’ll talk to you soon, I hope.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

With one last nod, she turned and walked away. He watched until she’d turned a corner into a different section of the bar and he couldn’t see her anymore before he sat down. 

............

“You should see her again when you’re ready to talk to her honestly. When you’re ready to hear her talk to you honestly.”

“What if I’m never ready to do that?”

“Do you want a future with her? A healthy one?”

“You know I do.”

“You want it bad enough to have the hardest talk of your life?”

..................

“Well,” he said, then took a deep breath and hopped back up to his feet. “I’ve got to go fix that.”

“It was a disaster,” Toby said, studying the empty scotch glass in his hands.

“Thank you,” Josh said sarcastically. 

“You sure?” Sam asked him. 

“Nope,” Josh said with a smile as he downed his beer and headed off towards Donna’s table.

********** 

It took him a minute to talk himself into rounding the corner, and when he did, he stopped dead in his tracks. Donna was sitting next to the man in their group and he was leaning in talking to her. 

..................

“What were she and…”

“Michael.”

“You’re calling him Michael now? What were they talking about?”

“I don’t know.”

“She wouldn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t wonder?”

“She told him she’d be home in three weeks. I thought she was leaving me again.”

“You did the same thing with the note. How’s the jumping to conclusions thing going for you so far?”

.................

‘Do not assume, do not accuse, do not jump to conclusions,’ he thought to himself as he forced his feet to move one at a time towards her table.

She looked up and saw him when he was about half way there and he thought she looked absolutely stricken. She tilted her head in confusion and he shrugged and smiled cautiously at her, then she gave him a brilliant radiant smile that made his stomach churn. “Hi,” she said when he was close to the table.

He smiled back then. “Hey, what a surprise seeing you here!” The people at her table looked at him like he was crazy, but after a quick glance their way, he focused on her again.

She caught on quickly and laughed. “I know! I can’t believe it! What are the odds?” she asked in an overly surprised manner.

He shrugged and smirked at her. “It’s unbelievable really.”

She looked at her friends then, all staring at her like she’d lost her mind, and chuckled. “Josh, this is Carrie, Kelly, and Eric. We’re doing a case study together and hit a dead end. Thought we’d drink instead of study.”

He nodded. “Nice to meet you. Think I could borrow Donna for a second?” he asked them, but looked at her. She nodded and got up, walking a few feet away to an open area. 

He stood very close to her and looked at her for a few seconds before speaking. “Ok, that was ugly back there. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over there.”

He reached out and took her hand in his. “Yes you should’ve. I’m glad you did. I just… I was nervous and I handled it badly.”

“You asked for time,” she said, looking down at their joined hands. 

He followed her gaze and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “With no explanation.”

She looked back up at him. “I miss you,” she whispered.

He glanced over at the table, where all three of her friends were watching them. “I have no right to ask you this. Are you on a date?” 

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, just a study break.”

He sighed and took a deep breath. “Are you moving back to Wisconsin?”

She smiled. “No, just going home for Thanksgiving in a few weeks.”

He nodded. “We need to talk about some things.”

“Yeah.”

“I have Sunday off. Can we get together? Someplace private where we can talk? My place maybe?”

“Sure. How about one?”

He nodded and pulled her close to him then, kissing her forehead. When he pulled back, he whispered, “I miss you too,” then smiled at her and walked back to his table.


	14. Running into the Past

He wasn’t sure if the churning in his stomach was due to nerves or excitement, but either way, when the buzzer rang, he thought he might throw up. On instinct, he glanced to a window in the living room and considered making a run for it, but finally took a deep breath and buzzed her in. When she rang the door bell, he took one last look around the living room to make sure it was still clean, and opened the door. 

She stood there, wearing loose-fitting jeans and a pink shirt under a partially buttoned leather jacket, looking down at her hands, which she was fiddling with, her hair down and just a little make-up on, and he wondered for a second if he could skip the serious discussion and just make love to her like he’d dreamt about doing for four years. She looked up then, almost as if she could hear his thoughts. She smiled hesitantly at him and he found that he had to grip the door tighter just to keep from reaching out to her.

They both stood there for several awkward seconds, staring at each other, waiting for the other to speak first, and when he realized it wasn’t going to be her, he took another deep breath and said hello.

She looked back down for a second before looking up and meeting his eyes. “Hi.” It was quiet after that again, and finally she looked over his shoulder and into the living room. “Can I…” she trailed off, still looking into the townhouse.

“Oh,” he said, taking a step back to let her in and feeling like a complete idiot. “I’m sorry. Please… come in.”

She walked past him into the room, but stood in the entryway going no farther. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Can I…” he motioned towards her jacket and she looked at his face in confusion until she finally looked down and saw what he meant. 

“Oh,” she said, fumbling with the buttons on the jacket and then starting to pull it off. He did reach for her then, standing behind her and pulling it gently off her shoulders. “Thanks,” she said softly, looking over her shoulder at him. 

Her face was too close to him and he feared he’d slip and kiss her, which was unbelievably tempting, so he smiled at her and took a quick step back with the jacket, turning and hanging it on the coat rack next to the door. His own jacket hung next to it and he thought they looked right hanging there together.

He shook his head clear and turned back to her then. “Would you, uh…” he rubbed his hand over his face. “…like something to drink, maybe?”

She looked in towards the living room and past it into the kitchen. “Sure. Water?” He nodded and walked past her into the kitchen, leaving her standing next to the door. 

When he walked out a minute later with a glass of water, he looked around the living room and didn’t see her, and he had to literally remind himself not to jump to conclusions. He sat the water down on a coaster on the coffee table and steeled himself up to look up towards the door. When he did, she was still standing next to it, looking down towards her shoes and he smiled. She was as nervous as he was and for some reason, knowing he wasn’t the only one made him feel better. “Donna… come in.”

She looked up then and caught his smile. “Sorry, I didn’t know if…sorry.” She took a few hesitant steps towards him before finding her confidence and moving to the couch. She sat down in front of the water and he watched her for a few seconds before moving to the chair at the end of the couch and sitting as well.

“How have you been?” he asked her a minute later when the silence had grown as long as he was able to let it.

She looked at him and plastered a smile on her face. “Good. You?”

He nodded. “Good.”

“Good,” she said before looking back at the coffee table and picking up her water. She stared inside it at the few ice cubes and he hung his head. He’d already lied to her. 

.............

“I saw Donna yesterday. It was an accident.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me.”

“It was.”

“Ok. Were you glad to see her?”

“Yes and no.”

“Which feeling won out?”

“I asked her to come to my place tomorrow to talk.”

“I see.”

“Is it too soon?”

“I can’t answer that for you.”

“You’re really no help at all.”

“I know.”

“Funny.”

“You’ve got to be honest with her Josh. You have to be. If you’re willing to be honest, it’s not too soon.”

..............

“Horrible,” he said abruptly, breaking the silence once again.

She jerked her face up to look at him. “What?”

“I said ‘horrible.’ I’ve been horrible.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I don’t want… I can’t… lie to you. I need to be honest and the truth is I’ve had a really hard week.”

“Why?”

“A few reasons; reasons I need to tell you about. But mostly because I didn’t see you.”

She smiled then and looked quickly back into her glass before bringing it up to her lips and taking a small drink. When she brought the glass down, she continued looking inside it. “Well, as long as we’re being honest, I’ve been miserable.”

“Yeah?” he asked quietly, his heart breaking just a little at the thought of her unhappiness, soaring just a little at the thought that maybe it was because she missed him half as desperately as he’d missed her.

She looked up at him then and nodded. “I’ve been really confused, and I’ve been scared that I wouldn’t see you again.”

“I’ve been worried that you wouldn’t want to.”

“I didn’t want you to go in the first place,” she whispered, looking back at the glass as though it would protect her from the humiliation of saying the words.

“I had to.”

“You said that,” she said in a way that made him think she wasn’t so sure, which in turn made him feel like scum.

He nodded slightly. “I’m sorry it hurt you when I left. That wasn’t my intention.”

“I know,” she whispered, and that time he thought she meant it, which made him feel better. 

He looked at her for a few seconds before sitting forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. “I have to tell you something I can’t tell you.”

Her eyes widened. “How am I supposed to react to that?”

“Tell me I can trust you. Tell me that even if we don’t… tell me you won’t tell anyone. Anyone at all, no matter what.”

A tear slipped from her eye and he watched as it slipped down her cheek, and she lifted her hand and wiped it away before looking down at her wet finger. “You don’t trust me,” she whispered as fact.

He took a deep breath. “I want to. Tell me I can.”

She looked over at him, meeting his eyes with her wet ones. “You can,” came out as nothing more than a breath.

He couldn’t stand to see her cry. Watching tears fall from her beautiful eyes was like torture. He stood up, his legs shaking a bit, and walked into the bathroom to get the box of Kleenex his cleaning lady always left. He glanced at himself in the mirror thinking he’d rather die than have the conversation he was about to have, but knowing he’d rather have it than be without her, then picked the Kleenex and walked back into the room where she was still sitting straight up on the couch. He handed her the Kleenex before sitting down, watching her take one and wipe her eyes.

..............

“What if she wants nothing to do with me after I tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That I’m damaged.”

“You’re not damaged. You’ve had things happen in your life and those things cause you to deal with stress differently than most.”

“That’s mumbo jumbo for damaged. What if she doesn’t understand?”

“For someone you claim to love, you certainly aren’t giving her much credit.” 

...............

“I have a thing…” He stopped and wiped his hand over his face and through his hair. “From when I was shot. It’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Basically, when things get stressful or hard for me, I tend to re-live the shooting.”

She looked down at the tissue in her hand. “Are you ok?” she asked quietly.

He nodded. “Most of the time, yes. But since seeing you again, I’ve been… I’ve had nightmares, trouble sleeping…” he took a deep breath. “I’m easily angered, easily panicked; I keep waiting for the ball to drop… That’s why I left. I didn’t want you to have to see me like that.” 

She looked up at him for several seconds before standing up abruptly. “I should go.”

“What?” he asked, confusion and hurt obvious in his voice.

She started walking towards the door, crying harder and refusing to look at him. “You’re hurt because I came back. I won’t do that to you,” she said, shaking her head.

He stood up and walked quickly to where she was pulling her jacket off the coat rack, wrapping his hand around her arm and turning her around to face him. “Donna, don’t.”

“You just said…”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Please don’t. I’d never hurt you, I swear it.”

“I don’t think you’d hurt me, I’d never think that.” She looked down at the floor and then up at him adamantly. “But I’m hurting you and I won’t do that; not again.”

“You want to keep from hurting me? Stay.”

She shook her head and whispered, “I can’t.”

“Admitting this to you… God Donna, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Do you think I wanted to look at you and tell you that I’m…” He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing quieter. “I tried to keep it all inside, hoping it would just go away, but it won’t. So I can either tell you or lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Josh…”

“If you think I’m some whack-job…”

She cut him off. “I don’t think that.”

“Then don’t go,” he pleaded.

She stared at him for what felt like an eternity before nodding so slightly that he wondered for a second if he’d imagined it. He slowly let go of her arm and she walked past him back to the couch, pulling more tissues from the Kleenex box as she sat down. “What do I have to do with the shooting? I wasn’t there.”

He stood still until he heard her talking, then went quietly back to his chair. “It’s just the way I handle stress. You came back and… I’d spent four years trying to hate you for leaving me, and then there you were smiling in a Shell station like nothing had happened. And I…I told myself I had to…” He looked away from her, towards the wall. “Protect myself from you. But you kept showing up and talking and part of me couldn’t help wanting what we had back…” He looked back to her then and whispered, “Wanting more.” 

“Just part of you?” she whispered back.

He couldn’t face her, couldn’t look at her while he said it. It seemed so foreign to him to even remember it, as though it was a lifetime ago instead of just a few months. He stood up and walked to the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway and looking at his shoes. “Part of me wanted to keep hating you. To… God this is so hard. To blame you for…” He looked at her then. “You broke my heart. I know you didn’t know it, but it didn’t matter to me. You broke my heart and I needed to hate you to protect myself from letting you do it again.”

The tears fell freely down her cheeks by then and he wished she’d wipe her eyes again, wished he could hold he while she cried, wished he could pick her up and carry her to his bed and make love to her, show her how much he didn’t hate her. That he never really had, as hard as he’d tried. “And now?” she whispered. “Does part of you want to hate me now?”

He shook his head. “No, but part of me is still waiting for you to leave.”

“Because I did before,” she said more to herself than to him, but catching his attention all the same.

“No,” he said firmly. “You quit your job before. A job you weren’t even being paid for. It’s not because of what you did; it’s because of how I see what you did.”

She put her glass down on the coffee table and sat back, looking down into her lap. “I’m sorry.”

He shifted his weight onto one foot and turned to face her, leaning on one shoulder. “For what?”

“Whatever I need to be sorry for to fix this,” she said through sobs.

...............

“I’ll call her. Tell her I’ll put her on payroll.”

“Do you think that’ll matter?”

“I don’t know, Sam! I just, I know I have to fix this. I have to get her back, even if she...”

“Listen to yourself Josh. She left the campaign. She’s gone; there’s nothing left to fix. You’ve got to let her live her life.”

................

“Are you sorry you left the campaign?” he asked, not even knowing what answer he hoped to get from her. “Because you’re better for it you know.”

She put her elbows on her knees then and propped her forehead in her hands, quiet while she tried to control her breathing. “I’m sorry for the way I left. After everything you did for me…” she stopped then and he could hear her take a deep shaky breath.

“It hurt more than you know,” he said in a non-accusing voice, surprised at how much better it felt simply to tell her. 

She looked up at him then, her eyes glossy and tear streaks on her cheeks. “You won’t believe this, but I do know.”

He turned his head and looked into the kitchen. “You’re right. I don’t believe it.” 

“That’s fair,” she whispered. “And I am sorry.”

He looked back at her. “You shouldn’t have to be. You left your job to go back to your boyfriend. Intellectually I know that. I do. But it gets all screwed up emotionally. It feels like you left me for your boyfriend. I can tell myself over and over that you left your job, but it still feels like…”

“I left you,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “Yes.”

She took a deep breath before looking up at him again. “It feels like that because it’s true.”

“What?” he asked, confusion lacing his voice.

“Honesty, right?” she asked with a small gut-wrenchingly sad smile on her face.

“Yes,” he whispered, feeling as though he was going to vomit.

“I didn’t leave my job,” she said, shaking her head. “I left you. I just didn’t do it for Michael.”


	15. Running into the Past

  
Author's notes: This is the only chapter from Donna's POV.  


* * *

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his, wide and looking at her like she’d just ripped his heart out of his chest. She couldn’t bear to see that look. She couldn’t bear doing that to him. She wondered if it matched the one he had as he read the note she’d left him more than four years earlier. She shook her head and opened her eyes again, looking straight at him. She’d been fooling herself about that day, all this time, telling herself he’d be angry for an hour but by the time he left for Iowa, he’d have forgotten all about her.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there staring at her with a pain in his eyes she’d never seen from him, not even the week before when he’d exploded in her apartment and told her, most likely on accident, how much she meant to him all those years ago. 

..............

"Will you be back Donna? Someday, just when I think I’m going to be able to live a normal life without you, will you come back to pull me in again? With your smile and your eyes and that way you have of… I’m so pathetic, I almost hope you do.

“Josh, I don’t understand…”

“Of course you don’t understand. How could you? How could you know what it’s like to… to walk into your office one day and find that note? To have everything change in mere seconds. To not understand what…what I did to make you leave.”

.................

She hadn’t really processed his words until much later, once he was gone and she had tried to piece together what had happened, but she was sure, looking at him standing there staring at her, that even then he hadn’t looked as destroyed as he did that very second.

“Josh,” she said quietly, wiping her eyes and willing herself to stop crying. 

“You said I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said in a gravely voice she’d never heard from him before, as if his vocal chords were gone and the sound was coming straight from the heart she’d shredded.

“You didn’t,” she said, standing up slowly and taking a step towards him. He flinched and took a step backwards, from the entry way into the kitchen, as if backing away from a predator. “You never did anything wrong. Please just let me explain.”

He didn’t reply, just continued looking at her, taking another step backwards into the kitchen as she took another towards him. She needed to be near him; she doubted she had the courage to say these words if she couldn’t be at least touching him in some small way, and she wanted nothing more than to be close to him. To smell his cologne and feel the warmth from his body, to feel like they were in this together. She didn’t deserve that, she knew, but it didn’t stop her from needing it, and she took one more step towards him as he backed into the refrigerator. “Josh, please,” she begged, tears still streaming unwanted down her face.

He didn’t answer her, but when she took another tentative step towards him, he didn’t move, and three steps later she stood directly in front of him. She reached out, taking his hand in hers and he didn’t fight her, but didn’t respond as she laced their fingers together.

“Make me understand,” he whispered finally, although to her it sounded more like pleading than requesting. “I need to understand.”

She nodded, staring down at their joined fingers, hers gripping his hand, his limply being held by hers. She wiped her eyes with her other hand and finally she looked back up at him. “You were larger than life,” she whispered.

.............

“Mom?”

“Donna, my God we’ve been worried. You were supposed to call yesterday. Where are you?”

“South Carolina.”

“South Carolina? What happened with New Hampshire?”

“I got a job with the campaign. We’re in South Carolina.”

“Already?”

“Well, I’m not technically getting paid yet, but I’m the assistant to one of the head guys. He’s huge here Mom.”

“But he’s not paying you?”

“He will, I’m not worried about that. We sat on a bus all day yesterday and, I swear Mom, he knows everything. He’s brilliant. He talked about policy and press and past candidates and why who voted for what and… it was incredible.”

“Sounds like it.”

“I got to be there the whole time, taking notes, and afterwards he answered all my questions and gave me a ton of stuff to do; important stuff. We’re having a fundraiser in two days and I’m doing all the last minute coordination.”

“And this guy…”

“Josh. You’d like him, Mom. He doesn’t want me to know it, but he’s watching out for me. He made sure the campaign paid for my room here even though some of the volunteers had to pay their own way, and we worked through dinner last night so they’d buy that too. He’s really amazing.”

..................

“You were amazing and smart and funny and… you could do anything.” She stopped and looked up at him. “I came there with nothing and you let me help, you let me be a part of it and for the first time ever, I felt like I made a difference, because you made a tremendous difference to everyone and I made a small one to you.”

He looked away from her, off to the side, and lowered his head, then whispered, “You made a huge difference to me.” 

She wanted to reach out and put her hand on his cheek, to lift his head so he’d look at her, but she thought he’d turn and leave if she touched him more than she already dared to. “And that made me feel so special and needed. And I couldn’t help it. Before I even realized it, I had…” She stopped then, desperately trying to hold the tears inside and wondering how she’d ever be able to tell him this. Even four years later, she still felt pathetic when she thought about it.

“What?” he asked quietly, lifting his head and looking at her after the silence stretched.

Honesty, she told herself. If she wanted him to understand, she’d have to tell him. It couldn’t be any harder that what he’d told her and if he’d found the courage, she would too. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to the light on the ceiling. “I had this huge, huge crush on you. At least that’s how it started. And I felt like a complete idiot because you couldn’t feel the same way.” She stopped and pulled her eyes off the ceiling to look at him, complete shock in his eyes. “You had a girlfriend,” she said quietly. “An influential, smart, educated girlfriend. I was twelve years younger than you with no college degree and no experience in politics and you saw me as a kid sister, someone you had to watch out for.”

His eyes widened. “A kid sister?”

“That’s what I thought. You talked badly about Michael, you made sure the campaign paid for my food and hotel, you explained things, you argued…”

He shook his head. “I didn’t see you as a kid sister.”

She bit her lip, almost shocked at his words. Even after the confessions he’d made the previous week, she found it difficult to take in. That this extraordinary man could’ve had feelings for her, and more so, that she’d thrown those feelings away. “I didn’t know that,” she whispered. “I just… I looked three, four, eight years into the future and saw myself as your assistant. I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t have been able to do that for years. To pretend that I didn’t…” she stopped, taking a shaky breath and wiping tears off her cheek with one hand while still holding onto him with her other. “…want more. I couldn’t keep watching you with her. What if it had worked out, what if you had married her? I couldn’t stay there and be that close to you and not be with you. If it was that hard after a month, what would it have been like after six or seven years?” She shook her head and blinked, letting even more tears course down her cheeks. “I couldn’t do it.”

His free hand moved then and she watched as he brought it to her face, pausing just before touching her. It hung there in the air for a few seconds before he put it down to his side again. “So you left? Without talking to me about it? I broke up with her three days before you left.”

Silent tears turned into sobbing and she choked on her words as she continued. “I didn’t know,” she said, chest heaving and shoulders trembling. “Michael came to New Hampshire with flowers and promises and asked me to come back. I knew it wouldn’t work; I didn’t want him anymore.” She kept going but could barely understand her own words between sobs and deep shaky breaths. “He couldn’t… come… close to you. But I thought maybe if I got away… maybe if I went back to real life, I’d be ok, I’d get past it. So I…left… you, not the job.” 

He closed his eyes. “How long were you with him?”

She tried to take deep breaths, tried to stay calm, tried to stop crying, but she’d waited too long to say all of it, and along with the words came memories and guilt and remorse and pain. “Not quite two weeks. I was living with my parents, waiting for an opportunity to end it. It came and I did.”

His hand came up then, his palm gliding over her wet cheeks to her ear, his fingers tangling softly in her hair. He pulled her head to his chest, shushing her, the steady beat of his heart calming her immediately. He held her there, his chin on top of her head, his fingers still in her hair. “You could’ve come back,” he whispered almost a minute later.

She shook her head slightly, still crying onto his shirt. “I was trying to convince myself it was just a crush. I thought that after time, life would go back to normal and those feelings would disappear.”

He took his other hand gently from hers and wrapped it around her body, pulling her even closer to him. “Did they?”

................

“How about you and I escape from real life and hit a movie tonight?”

“Can’t. I have a test on Thursday I need to study for.”

“Ok… how about Friday?”

“Maybe.”

“Donna….”

“Don’t start, Mom.”

“Donnatella, I miss your smile.”

“So do I.”

“Then Friday. Manicures and pedicures, dinner at Casa’s and then a romantic comedy. Just us girls. We’ll see if we can find it.”

“Buttered popcorn?”

“And Milk Duds. My treat.”

“Well how can I turn down free Milk Duds?”

“Now there it is, just a little, but I see it.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Will it ever go away?” 

“No. Not completely. Not if it was real. Sorry Baby.” 

...............

She stayed still, breathing him in while her own breathing evened out and tears stopped falling. Finally, she pulled back just enough to look at him. “No. I learned to live with them, push them to the background, but they were always there. I stayed with my parents and went back to school, but you still had such an influence on my life. It was…”

She stopped talking, looking down at the ground, and he brought a hand to her chin, tilting it up to look at him. “What?”

“It was almost like I was getting ready for that day in the Shell station. I just didn’t realize it.”

He furrowed his brow a bit. “I don’t under…”

“I was at home one night, a few months after I left, flipping through channels. The Mets were playing the Cubs and I wondered if you were watching it. It made me feel a little closer to you to think we might be doing the same thing, so I watched the game the next night too. Before I knew it, I was a Mets fan. You always said children should be our top priority and I’m a semester away from being a child advocacy lawyer. Papers I wrote, positions I took… I always looked to yours. Always wondered what you’d think, wondered if you’d agree, if you’d be proud.”

“I am,” he said quietly.

She smiled at him then, nodding. “I know.”

“But I still wish you’d stayed. I know that’s selfish, but I can’t help it.”

“Part of me wishes I’d stayed too.”

He closed his eyes for several seconds before opening them and looking at her. “Are you going to stay this time?”

“If you let me,” she whispered.

“Then why were you talking to Michael?”


	16. Running into the Past

He hated to ask. Hated that her tears had just stopped and now he was asking a question that might bring them back. Hated that he had to know, that he knew he had no right to ask but had to anyway. Part of him wished he could leave well enough alone; be happy, ecstatic, that she’d felt the way he had four years earlier. That even though he hadn’t known it, he’d spent the last four years being loved. She hadn’t deserted him for someone else, she’d left because of fear, and although the result was the same, it somehow seemed far easier to forgive. Lack of courage was, after all, the reason he’d waited too long to tell her how he felt all those years ago, the reason he hadn’t called her even once in the past four years, the reason he’d tried to stay away from her when he first saw her there in that Shell station. Fear could be forgiven, had been the second she’d voiced it to him, but still, he had to ask about Michael. He had to. 

He still held her close to him, where he’d pulled her soft warm body after not being able to look at her tear stricken face one even more second. Her head wasn’t against his chest any longer, but they were still sharing the same small place in his kitchen against his refrigerator, their chests moving as one, their legs intertwined. The fingers on one of his hands still tangled in her hair, his other hand around her back holding her close to him, and even as the question loomed in the air, he couldn’t help noticing that they were absolutely perfect that way. He hoped they’d stand like that again in the future under happier, sexier circumstances.

“It’s not what you think,” she said quietly, looking up at him with red puffy eyes and a blotched face.

“Then explain it to me,” he said quietly as he ran his fingers through her hair to the tips and finally dropped his hand. She didn’t move, but he didn’t feel trapped as he had earlier.

She smiled slightly at him, nodding. “Do you mind if I…” she gestured over her shoulder shyly. “Splash some cold water on my face first?”

His eyes widened just a little bit and he stared at her for a few seconds before answering. “Uh… sure. Go ahead.” 

She smiled bigger then and turned towards the entry from the kitchen to the living room. When she reached it, she turned back to him. “Could I maybe get some more water too?”

He nodded dumbly and watched her walk away before going into the living room for her glass, wondering if she was stalling, if she was coming up with a story to give him. He brushed off the feeling and took her glass into the kitchen, filling it with a few more ice cubes and some water, then went back into the living room and sat it down where it had been before. He looked around the room for several seconds after that before taking a deep breath and sitting uncomfortably in the chair at the end of the couch.

When she walked out of the bathroom a minute later he thought she looked better. Her eyes were still red and a bit swollen, but her face seemed better and she had a look as if the worst was over. He hoped it was. 

She walked to her place at the couch and sat down, taking a drink of her water before looking up at him. “Michael and I had a deal,” she said simply, putting the glass back down on the coaster.

His eyes widened again as his mind jumped to ten different conclusions at once. “A deal?” he said in that non-flattering voice of his he hated. 

She nodded once. “I’d get him through residency, then he’d get me through college. That was our deal.”

.................

“Your boyfriend was older than you?”

“I think that question is of a personal nature?”

“Donna, you were just at my desk, reading my calendar, answering my phone, and hoping I wouldn't notice I never hired you. Your boyfriend was older?”

“Yes.”

“Law student?”

”Medical student.”

“And the idea was that you'd drop out and pay the bills till he was done with his residency.”

“Yes.”

...................

“Yes, I remember. What does that…”

“The deal wasn’t contingent on our staying together,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

She shrugged. “Of course we thought we’d still be together, but the deal didn’t hinge on it.”

“So…”

“Michael’s paying for my college.”

He wouldn’t have guessed that to be the case if he’d had a thousand guesses, and he was sure the expression on his face showed it. “Really?” he asked, absolutely dumbfounded.

“He wasn’t a fan of the idea when I brought it up, but he got the good end of the deal, so he eventually agreed to it.”

He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “How did you get him to do that?”

“Josh,” she said softly. “I know you’ve spent four years painting him a certain way, but he’s not a complete bastard. I paid for everything when we were together. Rent, utilities, groceries, car repairs… all of it. I asked him to pay only my tuition and he agreed. I wasn’t for my undergrad, but I’m on a partial scholarship now, so that makes it even easier on him.”

“And that’s what the call was about?”

She laughed a little. “His fiancé’s not the happiest about our agreement. Since next semester’s my last, he wanted to know if I’d registered and gotten the bill so he could pay it and be done with it.”

He nodded. “I can see where she’s coming from.”

“Please don’t,” she whispered, looking down at her glass.

“Don’t what?” he asked, confused.

“Don’t be…” She stopped and looked up at him. “I’m not sponging off my ex. I’m not some weak girl who has to have someone else pay her way. This was our deal and he’s getting the far better end of it. Please don’t act like…” She looked over at the wall. “Like I slept with him for tuition.”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “I didn’t mean…” He stopped abruptly. Someone at some point had told her that, he was sure of it. Someone had done their best to make her feel small and less than amazing; they’d told her she didn’t deserve to go to college, hadn’t earned it, was sleeping her way through it. He wished he knew who that was, wished he could’ve protected her from them, wished there wasn’t a very small part of him who hated that Michael had anything at all to do with her education. But to think… he couldn’t even wrap his mind around it. He stood up and walked slowly to where she was sitting on the couch and knelt down in front of her. “That’s not what I meant. I would never, never think that about you.”

She still didn’t look at him, still kept her eyes on some unknown place over his left shoulder. “Then what did you mean?” she asked almost bitterly.

He hadn’t completely understood the need she’d had a few minutes earlier to be touching him as she explained the reason she left the campaign, but he understood it now. As she sat there, hurt, weary, uncertain of him, his need to hold her was overwhelming. He reached out tentatively and took her hands in his own, looking down at the visual of her small pale hands in his larger, stronger ones. He was meant to protect her, to hold her, to make her safe. That was his job, at least, he wanted it to be. “It was a stupid thing to say and I’m sorry,” he said softly, squeezing her hands. “I just meant that if you and I were dating and you were paying his tuition, I wouldn’t care for it either.”

Her head turned the slightest bit, still not fully facing him. “What if you and I were dating and he was paying mine?”

Part of him hated it. Hated that he was still part of her life at all, even in a small monetary way. But another part of him was glad, proud even. Proud that she’d demanded to be re-paid, glad that Michael hadn’t been able to walk off with her life savings. He closed his eyes and took a large breath. “Honesty, right?”

She nodded.

“Honestly, I’d have mixed feelings.” He managed a half smile then before adding, “I think I’d be glad there was only one check to go.”

“He paid it online Friday,” she said, smiling back at him, a large smile that showed her teeth and made her look five years younger. It was the type of smile he dreaded seeing when she’d first reemerged in his life, a smile that would’ve sucked him unwillingly in again. Now he relished it. 

“Even better,” he said, his smiling growing to show just a hint of his dimples.

She leaned into him then, resting her forehead against his, and for the first time in a week, he felt like he wasn’t merely existing and surviving. He was living. “Are we?” she whispered.

“Are we what?” he whispered back.

“Dating?”

He pulled back, not much, just enough to be able to tilt his head up and kiss where his forehead had just been. “I have this PTSD thing,” he said quietly.

She sat up straight again, looking at him hard. “I don’t care. I mean… I do care, but… I don’t see it as a deterrent to dating you.”

He nodded. “I have a pretty ugly scar on my chest you’re probably going to have see sooner or later,” he said, trying to make light of the scar others had winced at. 

Her eyes squinted in confusion then grew wide in recognition. She stared at him for several seconds before trying to speak. “You don’t know how…” Tears pooled in her eyes again and he berated himself for bringing it up in this game of honesty they were playing. She pulled one of her hands from his and laid it on his chest over his heart and shook her head. “You’re not allowed to make fun of that from now on, ok?” she whispered in a shaky voice.

He nodded, gripping her hand with one of his, letting both of them rest there over his heart as time passed slowly and silently save for the sound of their breathing. When he couldn’t take it even a second longer, he moved his hand from hers to her neck, pulling her close to him again and kissing her forehead then her cheek and finally, finally her lips where he could taste her fallen tears. She was like water to his mouth.

She sighed, leaving one hand on his chest and moving the other to his hair at the back of his neck. It felt to him like their first kiss all over again and he thought it fitting. But as it progressed, it became needier, more possessive, stronger, and he was sure they were telling each other those few implied but unsaid words.

She pulled back, taking his face in her hands and raining kisses on his cheek, his forehead, his nose and finally his lips again before sitting up straighter and looking at him with a smile. “You sure?” he asked her.

Her smile widened and he doubted he’d ever seen anything as beautiful as her. “Positive, you?”

He pulled close to him again, close enough to feel her breathing on his lips. “For the last four years you’ve been my past,” he whispered, his fingertips grazing over her cheekbone. “I need you to be my future.”

She smiled and nodded and he leaned in the final inch to kiss her again.

................

“Josh, who’s the girl in the back seat who says she’s with you?”

“Donna Moss. Donnatella actually, but I’m the only one who gets to call her that.”

“Ok… who is she exactly?”

“My new assistant.”

“You hired an assistant?”

“I’m not exactly clear on who hired whom.”

“Josh, we’re on a very tight budget. You can’t just…”

“She’s a volunteer.”

“Oh, ok. But the volunteers usually stay in Manchester. What’s she doing on the bus?”

“I’m gonna put her in charge of finalizing the fundraiser. She’s gonna be a huge help. Wait and see.”

“How long has she been working for you exactly?”

“I don’t know. An hour or so.”

“And you already know she’s going to be helpful?”

“She hired me an assistant. That was pretty helpful.”

“Why does this scare me?”

“I need an assistant Leo, you know I do. And there’s something about this girl. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but she’s the one. She’s the one I need.”


End file.
